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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

for the jules stay with coops, would you be able to do something where jules kinda just messes around on the ice with a stick n puck n the team just kinda watch in adoration? 🤧

This is the final installment of Adventures in Babysitting! Thank you to everyone who stayed interested in this idea, which is the longest series I’ve ever written for SW fanfic (about 15k words total! Wow!). This is my favorite part so far, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Intro 1 2 3 4

Credit for Sweater Weather/ Jules goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I watch again today?” Jules begged, tugging on the strap of Remus’ duffel bag as they walked to the car. “Please? Please please please please—”

“Yes, you can watch,” Remus groaned, hefting their gear into the trunk. It seemed extra heavy today. “Though keep asking like that and I’m going to say no.”

“The plane doesn’t leave until six thirty, so we’ll be able to hang out with the guys after practice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we should be at the airport by five just in case,” Remus said. “And it’s an open practice, so the media will want to ask some questions afterward. You can probably hang out with them between interviews, though.”

Jules bit his lip. “Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” He watched Jules buckle in through the rearview mirror while Sirius turned the car on. Most of the snow had melted the previous day, leaving a clear and crisp morning that Remus could feel through the windows as they drove to the rink; he felt a little bad for everyone who wouldn’t be moving around to keep warm for the next few hours.

Moody wasn’t by the door when they arrived, nor was he in the PT room. Remus checked the clock quickly and frowned—they didn’t have a lot of time to spare before they needed to get ready to go. “Coach!” Sirius called, waving down the hallway.

Arthur looked up at them and smiled. “There you are! Got your skates, Lupin?”

Remus blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“Not you. Little Loops, did you bring your skates?”

Jules and Remus turned to Sirius at the same time and he hid a smile behind his hand. “Got ‘em right here, Coach,” he said without looking at them, holding his bag up.

“What?” Jules whispered and turned to Remus, who shrugged. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re number…24?” Arthur squinted at his clipboard and walked closer to them. Jules nodded silently. “Alright, I think we can figure something out. You play center, right?”

Jules squeaked out a ‘yes’; Remus could feel him trembling with excitement. “I get to play?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and bent slightly to his level. “Your brother never stops talking about how you’re the best center Wisconsin has ever seen. I wanna know if it’s true.”

“Sirius, what did you do?” Remus murmured as Jules struggled to take a deep breath.

“I may have possibly told Coach it was his last day here. Perhaps,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus shook his head. “You are the most incredible person on the planet and I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you as soon as humanly possible.”

“Love you, too.”

��Re.” Jules yanked on his arm as he jumped up and down, ramping up with every passing second. “Re, I get to skate with the team! I get to skate! With the team!”

“Looks like it,” Remus laughed. “Come on, practice starts in twenty.”

Not only had Sirius packed Jules’ skates, but somehow he had snuck all his gear into their duffels without either of them noticing; all the guys brightened when they walked into the locker room and Kasey waved to him from his stall. “Hey, Little L—”

“I get to skate!” Jules blurted as he gripped Remus’ hand hard enough to hurt.

James shared a look with Sirius—so you were in on it, too, Remus thought as he led Jules to his stall. “That’s pretty exciting,” he said with a low whistle. “How’d you swing that?”

“Coach Weasley wants to see me play.” If Jules made it through the next three hours without fainting from happiness, Remus would be shocked.

“You must be pretty good, then.” Leo grinned as he buckled into his pads. “Think you can score a goal on me?”

Jules hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finn laughed, ruffling Jules’ hair. “You got a jersey yet?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. What’s your number?”

“24.”

“Yo, Ringer, you got an extra?” Evander Bell dug around for a moment before tossing him a clean jersey. Finn grabbed some stick tape out of his bag and tore two pieces off; when he shook it back out, a decent ‘24’ had replaced the previous ‘21’. “There you go. You might have to tuck it in a bit.”

Jules threw his arms around Finn’s waist and squeezed him tight, mumbling ‘thank you’ over and over again. Finn rubbed his back and looked up at Remus with pleading eyes—can I keep him? he mouthed, pouting when Remus shook his head. Logan and Leo ‘aww’ed in the background.

“Okay, bud, let’s get your pads on so you can enjoy your last day here.” He put a slight emphasis on the final three words and the rest of the team perked up, trading glances between their stalls as Jules hurried to change into his gear.

Thankfully, he already knew what to do, and within ten minutes all three of them were on the ice. Several fans pointed to Jules and waved; he seemed surprised by the attention and shyly smiled back. Coach’s whistle snapped them all to attention and Remus laid a hand on Jules’ helmet to keep him close, just in case. “Cap, you know our drills for today. We start our scrimmage at 12:30 and you get twenty minutes for a lunch break.”

“Yes, Coach,” they chorused. Jules’ answer was a little delayed and Remus caught several half-hidden smiles beneath visors.

“Over here, 24,” Logan said, guiding Jules to the starting line with his stick on his back. “You wanna be on my team?”

“I want dibs!” Talker called as he skated past. “Jules, who’s your favorite? Me, or Shortie Pants over there?”

“Uhhhh…” Jules looked quickly to Remus. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Sucks to be you guys, but he’s on my team.” Sirius held his hand out for a fist bump that Jules happily obliged. “Right, buddy?”

“Totally.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drills were far easier than usual, even for an open practice, which gave everyone a chance to show off. They went through the motions, adding little flourishes here and there that the slowly-gathering crowd ate up; even Jules started having fun with it, tapping pucks back and forth with Pots between rounds and shooting goal after goal toward Kasey and Leo. He shone with joy.

When the lunch whistle blew, Remus tapped the back of his helmet lightly. “Remember that trick I did to knock Harzy over?” he asked under his breath. Jules grinned. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, c’mere.” Remus skated over to the far end of the rink, keeping an eye out until Finn was safely out of sight. “Plant your leg like this, yeah?”

Jules frowned, but did as he was told. “I thought you went right.”

“I did. You have to fake him out with the left. He falls for it every time.”

“Really?”

“Dollars to donuts. Give it a shot.” Jules wobbled a little. “Keep your balance steady…there you go!”

“Cool!” he whispered, looking up with a bright smile. Remus leaned down so they could knock their helmets together. “Cool.”

“Okay, time for lunch. You can try it out in the scrimmage.”

Jules practiced the motions all the way back to the bench, muttering instructions under his breath as Remus kept him from knocking anyone over on accident. He scarfed down a sandwich and downed a few gulps of Gatorade, which Sirius confiscated in case he drank it too fast and made himself sick.

“We’ve got a game to win, buddy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

“Scrimmage list is up!” Coach called from the doorway, tacking a sheet of paper to the wall. Everyone immediately crowded it; Remus shouldered his way through Kasey and Logan to get a good look.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Jules, you better square up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Am I playing against you?”

“Yep. You’re up against Sirius for the face-off.”

Jules’ eyes got huge in his head. “No.”

“See for yourself, buddy.”

“Does that mean we’re on the same team for once?” Sirius murmured as he leaned against the side of Remus’ stall.

“Looks like it.” He tilted his chin up for a quick kiss and Sirius tugged the edge of his shoulder pad lightly.

“Love seeing you in these.” He tapped the wooden shelf above them and grinned before straightening. “Alright, boys, let’s go!”

It almost felt like family skate again, except for the overarching vibe of genuine competitive spirit that spread through the team. Jules and Sirius skated to the center and braced for the drop; Jules dug his blades in, and not for the first time Remus was struck by how much they looked alike.

Sirius tapped the front of his skate, but Jules didn’t flinch from his laser-focus on Dumo. “He’s got his head in the game, Cap,” Dumo said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The puck dropped. In a flash of movement, both lunged for it; Sirius won, but Jules was hot on his heels as he skated toward the opposite goal, his face lined with pure determination. “Twelve!” Remus called, tapping his stick against the ice.

Sirius passed it, but Jules didn’t falter from his tail, moving to shadow his every moment. Remus passed James easily, but Talker stole the puck and turned it around for a quick move toward Leo, who dropped into a lunge and blocked his shot. The pace picked up after that and Remus heard the telltale click of press cameras going off along with the whoops of fans who had come to watch.

And then Jules started tailing him, the little shit. Remus did a lazy loop around the outside, then darted in to shake him—Jules reappeared moments later, a bit out of breath but otherwise fine. Remus took the puck out from underneath Logan and raced for the goal as a beautiful line opened up for him, but he heard the familiar shush-hush of Jules’ skates and braked hard.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Jules dodged sideways at the last second, just barely missing the puck with his stick, then spun back around and chased Remus in a sharp curve through the defense. He heard several people start laughing as he lowered his center of gravity and took a hard turn; the chill of the ice burned his cheeks, but Jules didn’t leave him alone.

“Come on, Little Loops,” he taunted, grinning over his shoulder. “Come and get it!”

Jules grumbled something under his breath and pushed off harder, skating right at Remus with single-minded intensity. He saw his left foot lift and internally shook his head.

With a couple quick taps, he was behind him again. “You can’t use my own tricks against me!”

“I can try!” Jules shouted back as they flew up the ice once more. Kasey caught his shot. “Nice one, Loops.”

“Better luck next time, eh?” Remus knocked on his helmet as he skated past, still panting. Arthur was laughing so hard he had to lean against the glass while Moody patted him on the back and winked at Remus.

“Eight more years,” Moody called with a grin. “Then we’ll have two Lupins out here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Remus laughed.

They stayed on the ice for a while after the scrimmage ended, losing 2-1 to Sirius’ team. Jules shadowed anyone he came within five feet of and was harder to shake off than a piece of duct tape—Remus had never been prouder.

“Harzy! Harzy, I gotta show you something!” Jules waved to Finn, who looked over in amusement from Leo’s goal. “Skate toward me like we’re in a game.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Jules kept his eyes on Finn’s feet as they grew closer, mouthing something under his breath. No, Remus thought. Is he going to…?

He did. In one perfect motion, he picked up his left skate and pushed hard in the other direction, zipping beneath Finn’s arm and sending him in the other direction. “No!” Finn shouted immediately as Jules burst into maniacal giggles. “Absolutely not! Remus Lupin, get your ass over here!”

“That was perfect!” Remus held his hands out for a double high-five and Jules jumped to reach his palms. “Excellent form.”

Shaved ice coated them both as Finn snowed them, still scowling. “I can’t believe you!”

“Have you tried saying ‘no’ to the puppy eyes?” Remus asked, turning Jules by the shoulders and sticking his own lower lip out.

Finn scoffed, but he could hardly hide his smile. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Indeed.” He squeezed Jules’ arms briefly. “It’s about time to head out, J. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone while I check in with Marlene?”

The unbridled excitement on Jules’ face dimmed a bit. “Do I have to go?”

“You’ve got school in a couple days.”

“I could stay until it starts again.”

“Mom and Dad miss you a lot.”

“Remus!” Marlene flagged him down from the boards and he skated over with Jules in tow, pulling his helmet off and swiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Before she could speak, a skinny man with large glasses pushed to the front of the group; Remus disliked him instantly. “Mr. Lupin, can you tell us—”

“Excuse you, I think she was trying to talk,” he interrupted, giving the man a stony look. “Hey, Marley, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. This is Craig Stearns, from the Hockey Daily…magazine.” Her smile was slightly forced. Tabloid. “He has a couple questions for you.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“When were you going to tell the media about your secret child?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Craig’s eyes flickered down to Jules, whose grip tightened on the hem of Remus’ jersey. “Your son.”

“You mean my little brother?”

“You’ve been seen with him an awful lot this week—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and he appears to be living in your house—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and several photos show you walking hand-in-hand—”

“Do you have siblings?” Remus cut in. “I’m going to assume you don’t. My parents visited for the holidays, during which time there was a death in the family and Jules stayed with Sirius and I for the week. He was living in our house because I’m not about to put my ten-year-old brother in a hotel, and I was holding his hand so that he didn’t run into the street. Are we done here?”

Craig paused. “Can we get a picture—”

“No.”

Jules tapped his elbow and Remus bent down. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, we can go home.” Remus gave him a gentle nudge toward the boards. “Go find Sirius, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus watched him skate across the ice until Leo caught him and swung him into the air before turning back to Craig with the coldest glare he could muster. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but keep my little brother out of your fucking gossip column. He’s ten. I better not see his face on some tabloid, got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Craig said with a harsh gulp.

“Good.” Remus looked over to Marlene and smiled, giving her a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, Marley. Say hi to D for me.”

“Will do.”

--------------------------------------

After endless hugs and a standing offer to play from Coach, they finally made it to the car just before four pm. They practically had to crowbar Jules and Moody apart—Remus was half-expecting the grouchy old man to run out after their car waving adoption papers, and letting Kuny figure out Jules was ticklish may have been the worst mistake of Remus’ life.

It was cute, though, seeing the puppylike love on his teammates’ faces whenever Jules entered the room. Jules clearly had a good time; he passed out cold in the backseat within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, still damp from his shower.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to give him back yet?” Remus asked.

“I was just about to say that,” Sirius laughed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “We could tell your parents the flight was cancelled.”

“They miss him.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sure they do.”

“I still don’t want to put him on a plane alone.”

“He’ll be safe.”

“One of us could fly with him…?” Remus shook his head. “Never mind, he’d think we were treating him like a kid. Ugh. I already miss him.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so to pack.” They turned into the driveway and Sirius parked, but neither of them moved to get out. “This was really, really fun. I’m glad we did it.”

“Me, too.” Remus sighed and twisted around to shake Jules’ knee. “Jules, we’re home. You can sleep on the plane, okay?”

Jules took a deep breath and blinked awake, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t wanna pack.”

“I’m not doing it for you, so you better get a wiggle on unless you want to go home in just your underwear.” Jules was out of the car in a flash and both of them dissolved into laughter. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t think that would work.”

“Come on, he’s about to break the door down.” Sirius snorted and got their bags out of the trunk, then tossed Jules his keys. “It’s the one in the middle, buddy.”

“The blue one?”

“No.”

“The yellow one?”

“Are either of those in the middle?”

“…is it the silver one?”

“There you go.”

Jules got it open after a moment of maneuvering and they tumbled inside in a heap of hockey gear, locking the door against the cold wind that was starting to blow. Packing wasn’t difficult—Remus had put Jules’ laundry into the dryer the previous night and threw it into his backpack as Jules collected his books and leftover socks.

They were in the car by five; Remus was a little nervous about getting to the airport on time, but traffic was light and they arrived with more than an hour to spare. Check-in was easy, they made it through security without any issues, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the gate.

“You have everything, right?” he asked for the thousandth time as Jules rocked on the balls of his feet. “Books, clothes, everything you brought?”

“I’m fine, Re,” he said.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I had a sandwich before we left, remember?”

“It’s a four-hour flight.”

“I’ll be okay.” Jules looked up at him and smiled. “I’m ten, remember?”

I know, that’s why I’m worried. “Boarding for first-class passengers and unaccompanied minors,” a smooth voice called over the intercom. Remus’ heart leapt and he saw Sirius stiffen slightly.

“That’s you, bud,” he said around the lump in his throat, crouching to give him a proper hug. He buried his face in the side of Jules’ neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Jules mumbled. Remus let go after a moment and Jules moved to Sirius. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, buddy.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Say hi to mom and dad for me, yeah?” Remus added as Jules walked over to a stewardess in a blue dress.

“I love you!” he called again. Just before they reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait!”

“What?” Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet as Jules shrugged his backpack off and ran back to them, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms.

“I didn’t think of a nickname for you!”

“That’s okay,” Sirius assured him. “I don’t need one.”

“Nicknames are for people we care about, and I care about you,” Jules insisted. He narrowed his eyes in thought before breaking into a wide grin. “Siri.”

“Like the phone app?”

“Exactly. Might need some workshopping, though.”

“Go catch your plane,” Sirius laughed, setting him down after a final hug. Jules ran back to the stewardess, who gave them a quick smile while she helped him get his backpack on again. They stayed in their spot, hand-in-hand, until the plane was nothing but a speck among the clouds and their feet started to ache.

“They’ll come visit soon, right?” Remus leaned his head against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed for the exit.

“They will.”

“How much do you want to bet Jules left at least three things behind?”

“He probably left half his clothes under the bed, but there are so many other things we’re going to be doing tonight that don’t include tracking down a kid’s lost sock.”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him and kissed his knuckles. “I like the way you think.”

“We already earned our Oreos, mon loup. I think we deserve a reward for surviving three weeks of constant family time.”

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devil-in-those-eyes · 4 years

Text

Temper Part 2- Mat Barzal

Ah, here it is!! Only a few asked for the second part and I really struggled but this seems to be better. Hope you guys enjoyed!

Temper Part 1

Mat felt like an asshole. It wasn’t until he watched the video that he realized what made you pull away from him suddenly and he couldn’t get into the bar scene with his buddies because all he could think about was apologizing for how he acted, how he treated you. Only after watching the video did everything register too him, the look of pure shock mixing with hurt. The flush of embarrassment that filled your cheeks, how you glared right before you walked out. Now it all made sense, how you shied away from his touch when you always let his fingers linger. How you instantly declined going out with him and the boys, when a few days prior he finally got you to agree and let go of the professional relationship.

Mat screwed up and he knew it, now he had to figure out how to get you to forgive him.

You felt like you were blessed because you were able to avoid Mat for the next week as they only had one game and Matt Martin got the game winning goal and got into a tussle, so you got to interview him. When you walked out of the locker room, Mat couldn’t get away from his group of journalists to catch you. You could tell he tried to close up his interviews early, but he scored as well and no one was letting Mat Barzal go so easily.

You thought you were in the clear and Mat would eventually get the picture to stop texting you once a day, asking to meet up for coffee, until your boss told you to go to the Casino Night with the Islanders, it’s theme? Black and White.

You almost groaned, but figured there would be enough people there that Mat would be so preoccupied, he wouldn’t notice you being there.

You weren’t wrong about there being a lot of people, all of the players were looking extra handsome in their tuxedos, sporting cleanly shaven faces, but you were wrong about one thing.

Mat could spot you anywhere. It was like he had a freaking radar for you, his eyes skating up your bare back, barely covered by the thin straps that crisscrossed over your back. The dress came to shin length with a small slit to the top of your knee, it was form fitting with thin straps. It was modest but still sexy, showing some skin without being horribly unprofessional and was driving Mat fucking crazy.

Mat felt you enter the room before he saw you, but he turned his eyes to see you walking slowly around the room. The second he saw your back, only covered by thin straps with the hemline dipping to the middle of your back, he felt like dying.

“Please tell me that is not Y/N,” Tito whispered to him while you talked to Matt Martin’s wife with a smile on your face.

“It is,” Mat gulped as you slowly turned, catching his eyes. You were quick to look away and Mat decided that you would talk to him before the night was over. You no longer had a say.

“I’d go now before someone else starts flirting with her.” Tito warned as you headed towards the bar.

Mat was gone within seconds. His heart was beating out of his chest as he followed your path, ignoring knowing looks from his teammates who had all chirped him this past week. Well, they had been chirping him about you since you started reporting on their team, but only now was he doing something worth their attention.

His fingers grazed a space of bare skin, igniting a flurry of shivers up your back, and leaned in closer to your ear. “You look… breathtaking.”

For a moment you tensed, his deep voice filling your ear and sending an obscene amount of butterflies free inside your stomach. Mat stepped so close to you that you felt the fabric of his suit jacket against your bicep, the warmth floating off of his body covered yours and got rib of the cold goosebumps that covered your body.

“I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since you walked in,” Mat breathed, feeling like he was drowning in his own butterflies. You smelled sweet and distantly like a rose, the more he stood close to you, the more it made his head spin, but he couldn’t step away from you.

You turned your head to look up at him and this time it was him who stole your breath away. It wasn’t your first time seeing him in the suit, but seeing it up close was different. He looked clean cut without the scruff, his hair pushed off of his face and styled perfectly. His suit fit him like a glove, showing his biceps perfectly, his thighs covered by expensive looking fabric. He smelled musky and delicious, for a split second you wanted to dig your face into his neck and breathe him in.

You wondered what the skin on his neck tasted like, would it taste tangy with the remainder of his aftershave? Or would it taste sweet and warm on your tongue?

The thoughts shattered your chest as you finally looked away from his neck and top of his chest to look up at his eyes, only to find them filled with heat, like he was thinking about the same thing, but it was your neck he was itching to taste.

“What can I get you two?”

The bartender pulled you two from your trance and while you gave your drink to the bartender, Mat cleared his throat as he struggled to come back to reality. Your body felt like it was vibrating as Mat spoke, asking for whatever beer he had.

When he disappeared, Mat’s fingers followed the hemline of fabric that dipped over your back. “We need to talk.”

The moment had been ruined by the bartender, simply doing his job, but his four little words really ruined it. “Do you touch all journalists like this?” You attempted to joke but Mat didn’t crack a smile.

“Just you,” Mat’s lips grazed over your ear, making sure you heard him.

His words caused a stutter of breath to fill your lungs. You squeezed your clutch in your hands as he whispered, “Let’s go talk.”

“We’re both on the clock, Mat.” You said quietly, smiling at the bartender as he handed you the glass of wine and Mat’s beer. Mat handed him a twenty and was quick to follow you as you took a sip of your somewhat dry wine and turned to get back to the party.

“So, then I’ll drive you home and we can talk,” Mat offered and slid his fingers around the curve of your elbow and came to stand in front of you.

People were beginning to watch you two but luckily those people were his teammates and the WAGs, they were all watching you two with amused looks on their faces and wondering what was going to happen.

“You can’t avoid me forever, gorgeous.” Mat breathed, attempting a smile, one that he hoped would make you melt a little bit.

You pressed your lips together, forgetting you had put on a nude lipstick and only remembering when Mat’s eyes flickered to your mouth and watched you. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that Mat would forget about you and you wouldn’t have to talk, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Fine,” You whispered, lifting your glass of wine and taking a sip, side stepping him and going to join the party, leaving Mat standing there.

The whole night you almost forgot you were supposed to be working to write about this night and what the Islanders did for the foundation. You found yourself being a friend more than a journalist to the boys and the wives and girlfriends couldn’t get enough of you. It seemed like the night went by too quickly and before you knew it, people were slowly leaving and Mat found his way to you.

You said your goodbyes and headed for the door, waiting on Mat as he went to coat check and grabbed yours. He slipped your coat over your shoulders and touched your back, “Ready?”

You hummed and nodded, walking beside him as you two headed for your car.

“Did you have a good night?” Mat asked softly, following the directions coming from the navigation that led to your place.

You nodded, “It was fun.”

“Always is with that group,” Mat smiled.

The rest of the night following agreeing to be here with him, your stomach had been filled with butterflies. You could hear him laugh from the other side of the room, feel his eyes sweep over you every chance he got.

It wasn’t a long drive to your apartment and the conversation loomed over your head, you kept waiting for him to bring it up but he struggled to find where to start. He followed you up to the door of your apartment and lingered outside the door, smiling softly at you after you popped the door open.

“Thank you for the ride,” you murmured, smiling at him.

Mat relaxed into the doorframe, pressing his shoulder into the frame. “Anything to get a few more minutes with you.”

Your cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry about what happened a couple weeks ago.”

You looked up from your clutch and at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking nervous. “I didn’t mean to snap and I didn’t realize I did it. I’m sorry.”

It meant more knowing that he meant it and that he wasn’t just tossing the two words around, that he actually knew what he did wrong. That he wasn’t just apologizing and leaving it at I’m sorry.

“It was a hard game,” you whispered.

“It’s no excuse,” He answered, shaking his head. “You were doing your job, you didn’t deserve it.”

You nodded again, breathing deeply.

“I love looking at you,” Mat breathed, stepping closer to you. He grinned, “makes me lose my mind.”

“Mat,” you murmured in warning as he turned and pressed you into the other side of the doorframe.

One of his hands touched the space above your head, his eyes glazing over. “Can’t I have one taste?”

You didn’t mean too, but your lips parted in a small gasp. Mat took one last step until his hips brushed yours, his cologne suffocating you. You were rooted to the ground and couldn’t move. You shouldn’t because this should remain professional, but he had you in a trance and you just wanted one taste, as well.

Mat lowered his head and tilted, letting the anticipation build between the two of you. The air between you both was electric and the closer he neared, your eyes fluttered shut.

The moment his lips touched yours in soft pressure, he groaned lowly and captured your bottom lip in a kiss that made your toes curl in your heels. Your hand touched his chest, feeling the smooth lapels of his jacket underneath your palm. After a moment, Mat pulled away and his forehead touched yours.

He groaned, “Ah, fuck.”

“You should… get home.”

“Or I could keep kissing you,” Mat offered, his hand touched your waist and when he stepped closer again, your bodies held no space between them.

“We shouldn’t.”

“God, yes, we should.” He moaned before his mouth sealed over yours again in a deeper kiss, this time his tongue licking its way into your mouth. He tasted like beer, salty and bitter, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

You dropped your clutch to the ground and slid your hands up his wide chest and into his hair, both of his arms wrapped around your hips and holding you close. You could feel his length thick and hard against your stomach and it only made your center swell with an achy need.

“Oh, fuck, wow, okay,” Your roomie slash friend blurted out, the extra voice pulled Mat from your mouth.

You looked at your friend as her eyes were wide. She motioned to her room, “I’m just gonna…”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Mat cut her off, stepping away from you and looking back down at you with a small smirk. “I’m heading home anyways.”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Have a good night, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He lingered longer than needed, but it felt too good and too right to not allow it. So, when he pulled away, you had to fight the urge to pull him back into your apartment.

“Night, Mat,” you smiled, watching him wave at your friend and walk off.

When you faced your friend, her eyes were wide and mouth open.

“Okay… so, what the fuck was that?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine

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woah-were-halfway-there · 3 years

Text

Mia’s First Game

A/N: as requested, here’s the little blurb that I originally was going to post the other day but didn’t. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

With Mia being born at the end of January and the Leafs' season getting cut short at the beginning of May that year after a brief playoff run, she still hadn't been to a game. She was only three months old when the season finished, and although the thought of taking her to one of the games definitely crossed your mind, with how she was in the routine of falling asleep around 7pm every night, it just wasn't possible. However, as summer came and went, you knew you'd be taking Mia to her first NHL game to watch her dad once the season started back up again, and you were pretty excited about it.

The original plan was to take Mia to the Saturday game after the first home game of the season that took place earlier in the week. Auston's family was flying into Toronto on the Friday, so you and Mia would go to the game with them the following evening. However, shortly after Auston left to head down to SBA for the home-opener, that changed.

While talking on the phone with Steph, who was getting ready with a couple of the other wives and girlfriends of players, you became convinced not to spend your night at home. The girls booked a booth at SBA to all get-together and watch the game as a way to celebrate the new season starting, and of course, you and Mia were invited. But you kept declining because you were so set on attending Saturday's game, although you really had no reason not to go to both.

At eight months old, Mia was full of energy, and you knew she'd have a ton of fun hanging out with the other girls that she's come to know, all while cheering on Auston and the rest of the guys. You weren't sure why you didn't agree to just go in the first place regardless of whether you'd have to leave a little early and take Mia home, but the more you talked to Steph, the more you became convinced that you should.

However, with you being, well, you, there was no way you were going to start getting ready without talking to Auston's family first, seeing as you knew they were excited about going to the game with Mia on Saturday. They immediately told you not to worry about them and to go have fun with your friends, but not without mentioning how they'd be watching for Auston's reaction to one he realized you and Mia were there.

The thought of seeing your husband's surprised expression after noticing that his two girls were at the game made you smile, and you became even more excited as you quickly packed up your things, then grabbed Mia and left to go over and get ready at Steph and Mitch's place.

About two hours later, you and Mia were all dressed in your matching Matthews jerseys and were ready to go. It was great catching up with all the other wives and girlfriends that you hadn't gotten to see since your wedding at the end of July because after that, you got sucked into everything involved with moving from the downtown condo to your new house. You also met and welcomed some of the new girls that recently moved to Toronto with their man for the new season as well, all of whom were lovely.

Mia was having a great time too, and just by seeing how happy she was, you knew that you made the right call about going to the game. But, soon enough, it was time to go. After the whole group took some pictures in their jerseys, including Steph stealing Mia for some pics with her goddaughter, you all headed downtown together so you could watch your guys in action.

Upon arriving at the arena, your whole group went to the suite that was booked out for you girls to drop off your things, then you, Mia, and Steph headed to the Platinum Club so the three of you could be let up to the glass one warmups started. You chatted with a worker who was going to escort the three of you to the rinkside just as the Leafs took to the ice, as Mia babbled away in your arms and took in her surroundings.

Soon enough, the team was announced, and the crowd started going wild. You and Steph then followed the worker down the hall and walked right up the glass before waiting and watching as the guys took the ice. You could hear fans nearby talking and mentioning pointing out that Auston's wife and daughter were there, which made you a little nervous because Mia has never really been so in the public eye before. But, your nerves soon melted away.

"Mom, they're wearing Matthews jerseys like us," You heard a small voice speak up, then glanced over to where two kids were sitting with their parents. The little girl appeared to be maybe six or seven. Meanwhile, her brother seemed a bit younger. With how she was glancing up at who you assumed was her mom, obviously looking for a response, you knew that she was the one who mentioned the jerseys.

"Yes, honey," the mother replied. "That's Auston's family. They're here to watch the game just like we are."

Your heart swelled so much watching their interaction, and you could feel yourself getting a little emotional because of it. Steph chuckled slightly as she watched you but also had to admit that it was all pretty cute too.

Then another voice spoke up.

"Is this your little one's first game?" An older man who was sitting in the row behind the family asked you.

"It is," you confirmed with a smile, then glanced down at your daughter. "Except we decided to come last minute, so her dad doesn't even know we're here yet. Can you say hi, Mia?"

Mia squealed in response, then got all smiley, which made those sitting nearby laugh and awe a bit at just how cute she was.

"Your daughter is beautiful," a different woman stated, making you feel even more emotional than before.

"Thank you," you responded. "I still haven't fully accepted the fact that she looks more like Auston than she does me, but I'll get over it."

"Speaking of Auston, here he comes," said another person, but you didn't even get the chance to see who because you were turning back around to face the rink just as your husband skated down from centre ice and took a shot on net.

He scored, then skated over to the boards a little bit behind the net to where Mitch, John and Willy were all standing. They talked for a few seconds before Will's gaze drifted in your direction until he spotted you, Steph and Mia, a smile stretching across his mouth as he did so.

Will then nudged both Auston and Mitch, then pointed to where you were standing so they could see too.

Upon locking eye contact with you, Auston's face lit right up, and it wasn't long before he and Mitchy were both skating over to the corner.

There was no way the two of you would've been able to hear each other through the glass, so instead, Auston gave you a look as he approached, showing that he was surprised to see you there. He also expressed that he wasn't mad about it as he winked at you and grinned cheekily.

Once the two guys reached the glass, they started waving at Mia, and much to your surprise, she immediately recognized them even in all their hockey gear.

"Da-da," she said and then reached towards the glass. Acting fast, you shifted her in your hold and lifted her so that she'd stand on the little ledge around the boards and be face to face with Auston. "Da-da!"

Mia's smile grew even wider as she stared at her dad and banged on the glass a little bit while he waved at her and blew her kisses. You then looked at your cousin as he stood next to your husband and couldn't help but smile at how he was smiling so widely as he watched Mia and Auston.

Mitch then looked at you and gave you a knowing look as if to say you better not leave before he gets the chance to see his goddaughter after the game. You nodded in understanding, which made his smile grow even wider.

However, soon enough, the moment had to come to an end because Auston and Mitch both had a game to play. It wasn't until then that you noticed the Leafs photographer only a few feet away as well and knew that he had just captured that little moment forever.

Auston and Mitchy then waved bye to you, Mia and Steph before going back to the rest of the team to finish up their warmups and get ready to start the game.

Mark, the team photographer, then approached the three of you to show you the images he took. There was one of you holding Mia while facing the fans with your backs to the camera that showcased your Matthews jerseys, another of you, Mia and Steph, all standing together looking very happy as you waited for your guys. And then the last one, which was probably your favourite, was a closeup of Mia and Auston as they smiled at each other through the glass, then had you in the background looking at the two of them and smiling fondly. It was adorable, and Mark assured that he'd send the pictures to you and Auston once he edited them.

After that, the three of you headed back to the booth, but not without saying bye to the Leafs fans you chatted with and told them you hoped they enjoyed the game.

Everyone welcomed you back excitedly at the suite before you all settled in and got ready to watch your guys play their first game of the season.

The Leafs ended up winning, which had the energy in the arena feeling insane but in the best way possible. On top of it, Auston scored two of the goals, which helped result in the team's 4-3 victory over Calgary.

By the end of the game, Mia was very tired. However, she wasn't getting fussy. She just continued fighting so hard to keep her eyes open and enjoyed her time being around people she was comfortable within this entirely new setting.

As everyone began clearing out of their seats, your whole group went back down to the Platinum Club and waited for the guys. Steph carried Mia all the way there, but after a few minutes, Mia began reaching for you because whenever she got exhausted, she only wanted her parents and would become overly snuggly.

Once you took her from Steph, she immediately clung to you and leaned against your shoulder while you assured her that you'd be going home very soon.

A few minutes later, the guys started filing into the waiting area, all happy to see their significant others and families as they greeted them after their big win. As you waited for Auston, you spotted Mitchy first, and he wasted no time coming over to say hi to Mia but was also very respectful of the fact that she was exasperated.

Not long after that, Auston entered the room and smiled so wide again once he laid eyes on you and Mia.

"There's my girls," he greeted happily as he approached the two of you, then took Mia from your hold, awing as she let out a yawn and immediately snuggled against him. "You tired, mini?"

"She's very tired, but she's trying hard to stay awake at the moment," you explained, then smiled as Auston wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

"And how are you feeling, baby mama? This was your first big night out with Mia, and I must say, you both sure made my night by being here."

You rolled your eyes at his baby mama comment but couldn't help the blush that burned your cheeks at the rest of what he said.

"You're making it sound like I don't have a life, babe. But I'm good. Really glad I decided to bring Mia out tonight. We had a lot of fun, didn't we, sweet girl?"

Mia didn't respond. You didn't expect her to, especially with her minimal vocabulary. Instead, she mindlessly brought her hand up to her mouth and began sucking on it, then using her other hand to rub her cheek. She'd been teething like crazy lately, and those actions were what she did when her mouth was beginning to bother her.

You and Auston looked at each other knowingly after that because you both knew how if she were in discomfort, mixed with how she was already so exhausted, things would get real messy real soon. So, without even having to agree on it, you both started saying your goodbyes and headed home.

Deep down, you knew that night would probably be a little rough with Mia and trying to get her to sleep comfortably, but you weren't worried. You were so content and knew that Mia also had a good night out, so it was worth it. And besides, you didn't have to do it alone. Auston was there too, he wasn't going anywhere, and you knew you'd get through whatever else your little family needed to face together.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfiction #nhl imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl rpf #nhl headcanon #hockey fanfiction #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #auston matthews imagines #a. matthews #nhl writing

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spencerreidslove · 4 years

Text

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! This took me way too long to write for the level of mediocrity it is.

————

“You know what I haven’t done in a long time?” Emily asked from her spot across from you.

The team had just finished a case, relatively soon and with no other bodies other than the original two that were the cause for the team coming in. Everyone was now on the jet home, in a pretty good mood.

“What?” You asked.

“Bowling.” Emily said.

“Oh, there was a new place that opened downtown the other week, Will and I took Henry there. It was super fun.” JJ said.

“Did you bowling originated in Ancient Egypt, around 5,000 BC. They would roll stones at various objects, the goal being to knock them over?” Spencer asked, sitting down next to you.

“We should all go bowling.” You said.

Everybody agreed and over when you landed, you made a plan to meet up at the new bowling place.

You were getting ready to leave when you got a call.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said.

“Oh-hi-Y/N.” Spencer’s voice came in through your phone. It was no secret that the young doctor had a crush on you. It was obvious from the first day you started working at the BAU when he stammered out an introduction and then continued to blush everytime you talked to him for three months.

What no one knew though, was that you had also developed a crush on Spencer.

“What can I do for you, Spence?” You asked.

“Would you...could you maybe give me a ride to the bowling alley?” He asked.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up in five.” You said. You and Spencer said your goodbyes before you turned and left your apartment.

You picked up Spencer and on your way over to the alley, you chated about the latest episode of Doctor Who.

Despite your crush on him, and his crush on you, Spencer and you had managed to become friends and watched every new episode of Doctor Who together.

You pulled up to the alley, and then went inside to find the team waiting for you and Spencer, standing by two lanes.

“There’s too many of us just for one lane, so we thought we could do teams.” JJ said. “We both play and whichever team has the highest collective score at the end wins.”

You agreed and were quickly spilt up onto teams.

You ended up on a team with JJ, Emily, and Hotch. The other team was Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, and Reid.

“What are we playing for here?” Rossi asked.

There were a few suggestions before Emily said, “Which ever team loses has to do the other team’s paperwork for a week.”

Everybody turned to Hotch to see if he would be against it, but he just nodded and almost gave a smile.

You gave the first throw from your team, and instead of heading for the pins your ball went straight into the gutter.

“Do you need the bumpers up, Y/L/N?” Morgan called out from the other lane.

“Warm up roll!” You said in defense.

“Sure.” Rossi said sarcastically.

At almost the exact same time, Reid ended up rolling at gutter ball too. Turns out, both you and Spencer were not good at bowling.

“I say we cut them off from both our teams and say they fend for themselves.” Morgan said after you managed to get four pins and then Spencer got three.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha ha, Morgan. I haven’t seen you do that well either.”

You and Spencer sat next to each other on a bench, waiting for your teams. “Do you wanna know something?” Spencer asked, leaning in so close to you you could feel his breath on your neck.

That you know I want to kiss you really badly? You thought.

“What?” You asked.

“I’m playing badly on purpose.” Spencer whispered.

You laughed a little. “Why?” You asked.

“Because it’s fun. Watch this.” Spencer said, standing up. It was both your turns again and while you rolled a five, Spencer managed to get a strike.

“Alright, Pretty Boy, now we’re getting somewhere!” Morgan said.

“You have any hidden skills like that?” Emily asked you.

In the end, your team ended up winning by eight points.

Your team cheered out, celebrating your success.

The other team pouted, but as the group dispersed, Spencer was the only one who didn’t seem upset.

“Aren’t you upset you have to do extra paperwork?” You asked once the two of you were situated in your car.

Spencer shrugged. “I’m not that upset.” He said.

“I know you do paperwork at super sonic speed, but still.” You said.

“Y/N, do you wanna know why I’m not that upset?” He asked.

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted you to win.”

“What?”

“I know everybody knows I like you. I wanted you to win so I could see how happy you got.” Spencer said.

There was a pause as you pulled over to the side of the road.

“What’re you do-“ Spencer said.

You cut him off by leaning over the center console, grabbing his shirt and pressing your lips up against his.

The kiss lasted all of five seconds before you pulled away and pulled back out onto the road. You started getting nervous that kiss Spencer wasn’t the right move when he didn’t say anything. Or move.

“Are you good?” You asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah...I just...I think my brain just broke.” Spencer said.

You laughed and pulled up outside his building.

Spencer moved to get out of the car, but before he did, he turned and pulled you in for another kiss.

When he pulled away, you both smiled.

“Maybe I could take you for dinner sometime soon?” Spencer asked.

“I’d like that.” You said.

As Spencer left your car and right before he reached his door, he turned around at waved at you.

You smiled and waved back to him.

Tags!

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne

#spencer reid fanfiction #emily prentiss #david rossi #spencer reid x yn #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #cm #matthew gray gubler #mgg

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zackcollins · 3 years

Text

love you like there’s no tomorrow || mitch marner

masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi! I know it’s been a while and I apologize for that. I’ve just been in a rough spot mentally so I’ve been having a difficult time focusing on writing. The words haven’t really been flowing, ya know? I’ve been having a better time focusing on playing video games because that numbs my mind more and makes me have to think less and less about what’s going on around me. Anyways... I hope that didn’t feel too real for anyone or depress them too much. sorry if it did. I didn’t mean to upset you. GIF credit to naivelystan!

Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything. But feel free to let me know if you disagree. As always, I’ll happily add a warning for something if you feel something needs to be warned about!

Word Count: 3.6k+

Title: Nobody by Dylan Scott

Additional: Even though the reader is portrayed as being a goaltender for the Leafs, they are gender-neutral! This is my fic and I do what I want. I hope you guys are okay with that. Enjoy this and let me know if you have any ideas for future fics. My ask box is always open for requests!

It was a television timeout nearing the end of the third period. You had skated over to the bench to see if the goalie coach had any advice for you. When he shook his head at your asking, you nodded in approval and turned to your teammates.

Mitch, who was sitting right in front of you, immediately pointed behind his goaltender. You lifted your mask and turned to see what was there. You saw a couple of the in-arena employees looking at you, both of whom quickly turned away when they noticed that you were looking at them. You weren't certain but you thought you saw a blush rise on one of their cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow as you turned back to Mitch.

“What was that about?” You asked. You took your bottle out of your glove and squirted it over your face, shaking off the excess liquid.

“What do you mean ‘what was that about?’” Mitch asked, looking at you quizzically. “The in-arena staff look at you all the time.”

“I mean, yeah? I do play on this team.”

Hutch reached over and swatted you with his glove. You looked over at the other goaltender and frowned. “What was that for, Hutch?”

“They look at you because you’re attractive, you idiot,” Hutch said, rolling his eyes. “That girl Mitch pointed out was talking to her friend about asking you out for drinks after the game.”

You felt your face heat up as you skated back to the crease. You glanced over to where the girls had been. When you met their gaze, one of them winked at you and the other waved and smiled toothily. You did your best to smile in return but you were fairly certain it came across as awkward or goofy. You certainly knew that your stomach felt awkward or goofy from that exchange, though you couldn’t exactly pinpoint if it was from excitement or from the strange look you could see on Mitch’s face as he lined up for the faceoff to your left. Sighing, you pushed those feelings aside and focused on tracking the puck after Edmonton won the draw.

The puck cycled along the boards for a few minutes, leaving your teammates hemmed in their zone for a long shift. You heard T.J. say something about how he had been out there for close to two minutes and that everyone else was in a similar boat. You took a deep breath and leaned around Leon, Alexander, and Joe to try to see the puck where Tyson had it at the point. Alexander tapped your left pad, which was the telltale sign that the shot was coming to that side. You mumbled a quick thanks as you readied yourself in the crease.

When the shot came, it hit Joe’s ankle and shifted to the right. You stretched your pad and goal stick in that direction hoping that either would make contact with the puck. You looked over after a moment and noticed that the play had continued on to the corner boards. You blinked as you assumed proper positioning to watch the play progress.

ice save.” You glanced over your shoulder and noticed the referee, Graham Skilliter, standing behind the net. “That’ll make some highlight reels for the next month or so.”

“Oh,” You said, shifting to the other side of the net to follow the play. “Thanks, bud. It must’ve hit my stick because I didn’t realize I saved it.”

Edmonton turned the puck over to Hyman who tried to exit the zone but got Tyler Ennis’ stick directly to the skates. He fell and the puck instead skittered over to Mitch who passed it back to Justin, who was standing only about five or six feet in front of your goal crease.

“I’m sure there'll be a replay on the Jumbotron in about two seconds. Furlatt is calling Ennis for a trip as soon as Edmonton touches the puck again.”

You nodded and not two seconds later Eric Furlatt blew his whistle because Ethan Bear had touched the puck. You turned to grab his bottle, taking a quick squirt through the cage on your mask. When you turned back around, you glanced up at the Jumbotron. The save was replayed from three different angles, all of which made it look more impressive than the last. You felt a small sense of pride wash over you as you shifted your attention from the video to the score clock. It told you that there were barely over three minutes left in the game. You took a deep breath and readied yourself, even though the faceoff was in Edmonton's end of the ice.

As soon as the puck dropped, Wayne cycled it around to Jason who passed it back to T.J. T.J. toed the blueline for a moment before he found a lane to shoot. The red light behind Mike Smith lit up and the powerplay unit swarmed T.J. at the sideboards. You banged your stick against the ice a few times as you watched everyone skate down the bench for their fist bumps. T.J. skated over to you, tapping both of your pads with his stick.

"Figured you needed a goal to win the game," T.J. said, chuckling. "Can't finish a game nill, nill. This isn't soccer."

You tapped the seat of T.J.'s pants with your goal stick, smiling and chuckling. "Thanks there, bud. I'll do my best to make it count."

T.J. smiled, leaning in to press his helmet against yours. "That's all any of us ask, bud. For you to try your best. We love you regardless. Mitch especially. I hope you know that."

A large knot had formed in your throat so all you could do was nod and smile weakly; you hoped that T.J. found that sufficient enough thanks. When T.J. smiled and squeezed your shoulder, you got your answer.

"What's…" you coughed, clearing your throat. "What's taking them so long to drop the puck?"

"Smith tweaked something in his knee and needed the training staff to go attend to him."

"T.J.! (Y/N)! We're ready!" Bogosian called from somewhere behind them.

"Remember, we're proud of you." T.J. tapped his helmet against yours one last time before skating back to the bench.

As you readied yourself in the net, you swallowed every emotion that had surfaced during that conversation with T.J. You didn't need to have a breakdown about this right now. Not while you were trying to preserve a 1-0 lead with two minutes fifty-eight seconds left in the game. You could have a breakdown about this when you were in the comfort of your bed at home.

The last two fifty-eight went by in a blur. You couldn't even tell anyone anything that happened, save for the fact that Edmonton didn't score. How they didn't score, you didn't know. You were almost on autopilot because of how unsuccessful you had been at trying to push your emotions aside. They had crept back in and they were all you were thinking about, no matter how much you should've been focusing on the game. But you were only human. And humans aren't always going to be one hundred percent invested in their job, no matter how much they love it.

When the team swarmed you at the end of the game, you felt overcome with emotions. It had been an incredibly long time since hockey had made you have such positive overwhelming feelings. Being with Toronto was more than you could've ever hoped for. They loved you more than you could've ever hoped for; you loved them more than you could've ever hoped for. You and the Toronto Maple Leafs were a match made in Heaven.

"(Y/N), hey," Mitch said, placing his hands on your shoulders. "Why're you crying, bud?"

"Hmm?" You mumbled, only half tuned into your surroundings. "What was that, Mitchy?"

"Crying. Why're you doing it?"

"I'm no--" you stopped when you realized that your eyes were watering and leaking. "Oh. I guess I am, aren't I?"

"Is everything okay? You're, like, the most brave dude ever. Seeing you crying makes me want to cry." Mitch frowned, grabbing your glove as you both skated off the ice.

Once you both were down the tunnel, Mitch led you into the empty trainer's room, closing the door behind you. You sat in one of the office chairs and Mitch knelt in front of you, sliding his gloves off and placing them at your feet. Mitch hovered his hands over your pad straps and glanced up at you; you removed your helmet before nodding your approval.

As Mitch unlaced the straps, you slid your hands out of your glove and blocker. You placed them in your lap, running a hand through your hair and shaking it loose of sweat when it came out.

Mitch moved your pad off, placing it on the ground to his left. He moved his hand down to your skate, carefully working on unlacing the boot.

"I asked you a question, ya know," Mitch said without looking up.

"You did?" You replied, genuinely confused. "I must've zoned out between getting off the ice and now because I don't remember what it was."

Mitch patted your knee before he slid your skate off. He placed the skate sideways on top of the pad before moving his attention to the straps of your other pad.

"I'm not mad at you. You did look really out of it." Mitch fumbled with one of the straps, cursing sharply as he tried to unlace it. When it finally came unlaced, Mitch flipped it off and stuck his tongue out at it. "Fuck you, you stupid strap."

You scoffed and kicked Mitch with your socked foot. Mitch looked up and stuck his tongue out at you.

"This is why I never became a goalie," Mitch mumbled as he went back to unlacing the straps.

A few moments passed, filled only by Mitch cursing obscenely at your pad straps. Once the last strap was unlaced and the pad was off and to Mitch's side, Mitch puffed his chest before reaching down to start unlacing your other skate.

"Anyways. I asked you before if everything was alright. You were crying and you never cry."

You swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair.

"Ye… Yeah. I'm grand, bud," you said, though you knew even a dead man could hear that you were lying.

Mitch looked up, pursed his lips, and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

"Ye… no. No, I'm not sure." You slouched in the chair, dropping your head into your hands. "A few things that happened in the period confounded me at the end there."

Mitch placed your skate sideways on your other pad before he stood from his kneeling position. He motioned his hands up a couple of times. You got the hint, raising your arms above your head. Mitch grabbed your helmet, glove, and blocker and placed them on one of the pads. When he turned back to you, he lifted your jersey over your head, draping it over the back of the chair. Mitch then unhooked your chest protector and dropped it atop your goalie pads. Once all of your equipment was out of the way (save for your pants), Mitch sat in your lap and wrapped his arms around your neck. You swallowed a nervous breath as you wrapped your arms around Mitch's midsection.

"Care to share what those things were?" Mitch asked, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "I'm willing to listen to whatever the problem is."

You nodded, clearing your throat. "After Hutch said that girl wanted to ask me for drinks, I made eye contact with her and her friend on my way back to the crease." You felt Mitch's heartbeat falter a little. To compensate for that, you ran your hands slowly along Mitch's ribcage. "Something weird fluttered in my stomach. I'm just not sure if it was from her winking and her friend waving or from you looking like you wanted to murder someone after seeing what they did."

"Mmm," Mitch mumbled, his heartbeat faltering a little more. "I know what I want the answer to be."

You ignored Mitch and continued with your explanation. "Then, at the end of the period, I was overcome by the fact that there's no place I'd rather be than in Toronto." Mitch's heartbeat began to even out a little after you said that. You hummed as you reached up and unlatched Mitch's helmet, sliding it off and dropping it at Mitch's feet. You pressed a soft kiss on Mitch's forehead; Mitch's heartbeat suddenly spiked again. You brought your hands down and ran them softly along Mitch's ribcage. "You guys all love me more than I could've ever hoped for; I love you guys more than I could've ever hoped for."

"Some more than others." Mitch's voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. His heartbeat had taken to a sporadic beat, almost as if he was nervous or scared of something.

"What is that--" you started.

"What did T.J. tell you?" Mitch cut you off, lifting his head to look at his goaltender.

"Oh, uh…" you mumbled. "All anyone could ask of me was that I tried my best. And that everyone loves me. You especially. But what does--"

Mitch's only response was to grab your face and pull you in for a kiss. You startled but made no move to push Mitch away. The kiss only lasted a few moments before Mitch pulled back and swatted the back of your head.

"That. That's what it has to do with anything."

You felt your entire face and the tips of your ears burn red-hot as you sat there and looked at Mitch. Mitch rolled his eyes and patted your cheek

"(Y/N), Christ," Mitch said, dropping his head back into the crook of your neck. "I've been flirting with you for months. How have you not noticed yet?"

"Flirting with me for months…?" You replied, scratching your chin. "Since when?"

Mitch giggled, vibrating against you. "Every morning when I bring you your coffee."

"But you--"

"No, I really don't," Mitch mumbled. "I only bring everyone else coffee after they've asked me to. I bring you your coffee when I buy mine on the way to the arena because I know your order by heart."

"T-"

"Two sugar, oat milk, caramel and hazelnut shots. Yeah., bud, I know."

You ran a hand through Mitch's hair, stopping briefly to soothe his scalp. Mitch hummed, nuzzling closer to you.

"I know that you like your post-game shower to be exactly seventy degrees and not a degree warmer or colder."

"Mitchy, I--"

"Not done yet."

You promptly shut your mouth and returned to soothingly running your hands along Mitch's ribcage.

"I know basically nothing makes you angry. Save for people that don't know how to use their signals properly when they're driving."

"Pisses me off to no end."

"I know, bud. I know," Mitch mumbled, pressing a kiss to your neck. "You also laugh like a moron at those stupid cat videos on YouTube. And just stupid things cats do in general."

You chuckled, running a hand through Mitch's hair. "Cat people see cats doing stupid things and we have to laugh. It's the law. Sue me if you don't like it."

"I never said I didn't like it, you goober."

"Yeah, yeah Mitchy."

Mitch hummed, squeezing you tightly. You smiled and squeezed back. Mitch wiggled around a little and hummed some more. He huffed a breath after a moment and curled in on himself. He mumbled something that you didn't hear, prompting you to card your fingers through Mitch's hair.

"What was that, baby?" You asked, pressing a kiss to Mitch's temple.

"Said I was gonna love you until the good Lord comes to collect us."

You froze, staring down at Mitch. "You… you don't even believe all that strongly in God, Mitch."

"You're right, but I believe that you believe. And that's good enough for me."

"Mitch, I--"

"I said I loved you, by the way. Or did you miss that?"

"Wha…? Oh! Yeah! Sorry," you said, distantly. "It's been a while since I've been someone. Sorry if I'm rusty."

Mitch chuckled, his breath tickling your neck. "It's fine, (Y/N). I knew it had been a while. That's why I didn't come right out and tell you how I felt. I wanted you to figure it out on your own so you could have enough time to decide if you were ready to date again."

"Mitch…" you trailed off after your words caught in your throat. You took a moment to gather yourself before continuing. "Of course I'm ready to date again. Nobody is ever gonna love me as you do, baby. You already love me more than my last few partners."

Mitch sniffled, wiggling around in your lap. You ran your hands along Mitch's ribcage and pressed a kiss to his temple. "It's okay, baby. You're safe with me."

"I'm gonna love you the only way I know how, (Y/N)," Mitch mumbled, his voice strained at wet. "And that's by doing actionable things. Like bringing you your coffee every morning. Or remembering what temperature you like your post-game shower."

"Whatever you need to do, I'm okay with. If it makes you happy, it makes me happy."

Mitch let out a sigh that was soon followed by soft, even breaths that sounded like snoring. You ran your hands along Mitch's hipbone and whispered sweet nothings into his temple. Mitch huffed but didn't awaken. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss where you had been whispering. Mitch mumbled nonsense and smiled in his sleep. A small smile washed across your face as you continued to run your hands along Mitch's hipbone.

Mitch had been asleep in your lap for ten or fifteen minutes when the door of the trainers' room swung open. Justin was standing on the other side, a relieved look on his face.

"There you tw--" Justin started.

Mitch huffed, shifting in your lap. You looked up at Justin and gave him a death glare.

"Quiet. He's sleeping," you said, voice hushed but stern.

Justin chuckled, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. "Does that mean you finally got your head out of your ass and noticed that Mitch is in love with you?"

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How many of you knew?"

"Literally everyone. Except you. Even T-Bear knew. And he's an Oiler now."

You shook your head and chuckled weakly. "For a goalie, I have a hard time seeing what's right in front of me."

T.J. appeared beside Justin and smiled triumphantly. "There you are! Keefe is going crazy looking for you and--" T.J. paused and blinked when he noticed what was really in front of him. "Keefe told me Mitch would be with you. But did I believe him? No. Idiot, I am."

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled. "I finally got my head outta my ass so Mitch and I are dating now."

"We… we are…?" Mitch chimed in, his voice groggy from sleep.

You looked down at Mitch and kissed his forehead. "Yes, baby. We are. I'm gonna love you like there's no tomorrow."

Mitch lit up as he reached up and grabbed your face to pull you in for a kiss. You smiled into the kiss, holding onto Mitch's jersey for traction. When you both pulled apart, Justin and T.J. were smiling softly at you from the doorway.

"We'll tell Keefe we found you," T.J. said, turning around. "But we'll also tell him that our starting goalie and Mitch finally unstuck their heads from the holes in their asses so they need some private time."

"Th… thanks, Teej," you said, your face and the tips of your ears burning red-hot.

T.J. turned back long enough to smile before walking away. Justin watched him walk away before he turned back to you and Mitch. He smiled fondly at you both as he pushed off of the door frame.

"I should get back too," Justin said, motioning over his shoulder. "I don't need Keefe mad at me next." He smiled as he took two steps down the hallway. "Just know everyone--myself included--is proud of you for tonight's game, (Y/N). You did amazing." Justin walked away but stopped just before the end of the hallway and turned around. "Congratulations on the relationship as well. Everyone is gonna be so stoked for you two.."

"Thanks, Hollsy," you and Mitch mumbled at the same time as you both watched Justin walk away.

Once Justin was out of sight, Mitch looked up at you and smiled fondly. You looked down at Mitch and returned the fond smile. You both stared into each other's eyes for a few moments just gazing at the fondness and pure emotion you could each see staring back at the other. When you both looked away, you brought one of your hands up and cupped Mitch's chin, tilting it up and bringing your lips together with Mitch's.

While they kissed, you felt your entire world coming together. You were happy in Toronto because you loved everyone here more than you could've possibly imagined. Because you loved Mitch more than you could've possibly imagined. You were happy here because everyone loved you more than you could've possibly imagined. Because Mitch loved you more than you could've possibly imagined.

Everything about Toronto was perfect because everything about Toronto involved Mitch. Mitch was everything to you. You were willing to admit that. Even if it had taken you a while to realize that in the first place.

Mitch was everything to you and you were going to love him like there was no tomorrow.

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

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From the ground up

Alright y’all, a little switch up from the normally scheduled 10 things programming. But this is 8 pages of fluff that was requested based on the Dan + Shay song From the Ground Up.

This is also very inspired by my grandparents who knew each other for 85 years, were married for 66, had 4 children, 13 grandchildren, and currently 10 great grandchildren, so here’s also their story, but it fits with the song, so why not?

Hope you like it! ______________________

Five Years Old

The snow was falling, all the neighborhood boys were gathering in his front yard to start playing. You two had always been friends, meeting when you were three years old and in the same preschool class. You watched from your bedroom window as the boys started throwing snowballs at each other, something you loved doing with your younger brother. You put on all the winter clothing you can find, running downstairs to beg your mom to go across the street to the Jost’s house to play with the boys.

“Have fun sweetie!” your mom calls once you finally wear her down and convince her that you’ll come in as soon as she calls you in for dinner.

Running as fast as your legs can carry you, more and more children aggregating in their yard, it was an all out war between the guys and girls, snowballs flying. The girls were getting pelted, you coming in and throwing snowballs left and right at any boy who stood in your way. One by one, they surrender, until you were the last one standing. You were the almighty five year old, the winner of the snowball fight.

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to see who it is only to be met with a snowball to the face. The boys around you were laughing as Tyson stood in front of you with a smirk. You wipe the snow off, staring at him for a minute while the girls stayed silent behind you. The snow was still following, a crown of water droplets forming on around his face as the melted snow clinged to his hair. It wasn’t a crush yet, because you didn’t know what that was. But it was something.

The next thing you know, you’ve tackled him down in the snow, grabbing some off the ground and shoving it back in his face. The kids gather around the two of you, watching Tyson struggle to push you off of him, not succeeding until you hear your mom calling your name from across the street.

“Bye, Tyson!” you jump up, running back inside, leaving all the rest of the kids standing there, looking at Tyson’s wet hair, cold red face, and snow covered back while he watched you run and disappear behind your front door.

Seventeen Years Old

“What do you mean that’s when you knew?” you ask him, his laugh coming through the other end of the phone.

“Any girl who wasn’t afraid of beating up a guy who was bigger than her and actually does it well is the girl for me,” he says, referencing the snowball fight all those years ago. “You didn’t care what other guys thought of you: you got hit unfairly and I paid the consequence.”

“Well, yeah, you think I was going to let you get away with that? Also, we were the same size, you were pretty small then” you tease him. “It’s so corny that you fell in love with me when we were five years old.”

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic when it comes to you,” he says, “There’s no one who I would want to be with other than you. The distance thing doesn’t even seem like it’s going to be bad knowing that you’re the one I’m doing it with.”

You feel your insides flutter at his words, wishing that he was there with you now. You two had been together for as long as your moms let you date, spending every moment together that you could. He was your best friend first, your boyfriend second, your forever third. “How are you feeling about going to North Dakota in a few months?” you ask him.

He lets out a long, slightly shaky sigh, “Excited? Nervous?” he tells you, his voice going up at the end of each, “Terrified.”

“It’s a new experience, that’s natural,” you try to reassure him. “You’ve never really done this sort of thing before.”

“Aren’t you nervous about going all the way to Massachusetts?”

Part of you was, part of you wasn’t. You were scared to be away from Tyson, but part of you knew that you would always find your way back to each other, even with the distance between Chestnut Hill and Grand Forks. “About being that far away from home? No, not really.”

“What about being that far away from me?” you hear him squeak out on the other end, barely loud enough for you to really hear the pain that was in his voice.

“I’m not nervous,” you whisper, wishing you could be there with him to physically comfort him, “We’re going to be just fine.”

“How do you know?”

You take a deep breath, knowing that he was going to cry a little if he weren’t already. “We have been best friends since I beat you up that day. No matter what, you’re going to be my best friend. No matter what, I’m going to love you. I don’t care if you’re at UND and I’m at BC. You could go to Sweden and I could end up in New Zealand and I will still always love you.”

You hear him laugh a little, a sniffle followed immediately after. You didn’t need to see his face to know that his nose was red, the goofy grin of his trying to hide the fear that would surely be covering his face.

“Hey, meet me by the gazebo in thirty minutes, ok?” he finally says after what felt like forever sitting there in silence.

“Sure,” you tell him, your phone beeping as a signal that he had hung up. You had no idea what he had planned, but you did as you were told, grabbing your jacket and making your way to meet Tyson. You get there to find him pacing back and forth under the moonlight that was shining down on him. “Hey, babe,” you say, him pulling you in tight for a kiss.

Even though it was summer, the night time brought a cool breeze that sent a shiver through your body even with the jacket on. Tyson takes off his jacket, his favorite one with his name on his back, handing it to you, a smile on his face as he watched you pull it over your head. “So, what are we doing here?”

“This is going to sound crazy,” he starts, knowing that would concern you a little, “but hear me out first. You’re confident that we’ll stay together even being in North Dakota and Massachusetts, but I want to put in stone. Or, I guess, wood,” he says, gesturing to the gazebo.

“What are you talking about?”

“People carve their initials in the wood here all the time. Why don’t we do that, too?”

You smile at him, bending down next to him to watch him carve TJ + YFI/YLI enclosed in a crude heart, next to others that had looked like they had been there for years. “I wonder who all these people are?” you ask, carefully tracing your finger over one that said MR+MD. “I wonder if they’re all still together.”

“Don’t matter,” Tyson shrugs, looking at the way the moonlight dances off your skin, “We’re still together, and I have a feeling we’re going to last.”

Eighteen Years Old

Tyson had no idea you would be there. The College Hockey Showdown was that weekend at Madison Square Garden, the Boston College Eagles playing against the North Dakota Fighting Eagles. One of your roommates was from a small town in southern Connecticut, half an hour outside of the city, so you convinced her to go with you and spend the weekend down there instead of driving the four hours back to Chestnut Hill after the game.

“So, which one is he?” Julie asks as the guys skated onto the ice.

You were in the only section that led you to be surrounded by a sea of maroon and gold, feeling weirdly out of place not wearing team colors but the jacket Tyson gave you that night at the gazebo, which you ended up stealing from him, instead. “Number 17, the curly-haired one,” you point to him as he talks with one of his teammates, his helmet off, making it much easier to see his face.

Tyson had been telling you how nervous the team was about this game: Brock was injured, Trevor was two days shy of a 730 day scoring drought, and the team hadn’t beaten Boston College in 11 years. Not to mention, UND and BC were the two winningest college programs since the 06-07 season, UND having a slight edge over BC, putting that much more pressure on the guys to win this game to help make the gap a little wider. Tyson only rambled off stats about the other team when he was worried about a game against them. It was the first time you would ever be rooting against the college team you had come to love, and only because it involved the boy you love.

“Does he know you’re here?” she asks you, trying to figure out why he wasn’t looking up in the stands for you. When you shake your head no, she picks you up out of your seat, annoying the other Boston College fans while the ones behind you got a good look at the four letters scrawled across your back. “Tyson!” she starts screaming, shaking you in hopes that you would join in with her.

You roll your eyes, knowing that he would be able to hear his name being called once you joined in. You were waiting to see the look on his face when he finally realized you were at the game, so you scream along with her. He hears his name, confused as to where it’s coming from. He looks around the arena, taking what felt like forever to find you. His jaw drops when he sees you, a smile on his face as he frantically waves back at you. He nudges his teammate next to him, pointing up to you. You couldn’t tell what he was saying, but from the joy that covered his face he was excited that you would get to see him play.

The first period goes by, no scoring, not much of anything. The second period was starting, and the blank score on both sides was making you nervous. One of Tyson’s teammates passed him the puck, Tyson taking the opportunity to shoot and scoring his sixth goal of the year. The Garden went crazy, you and Julie the only two in the small section of Boston College fans joining most of the crowd, Tyson pointing right up to you when he skated to the bench. UND went on the power play, his teammate passing him the puck again. At the dot, he fired it past the BC goalie, putting his team up 2-0.

You were overjoyed by Tyson’s game, getting to see him be named first star of the game that UND won 4-3. You manage to sneak your way down to where the boys are, Tyson somehow convincing someone who worked there to let you in once you gave them your name. You saw Tyson giving an interview, the guys passing by him and patting him on the shoulders while he talked. You didn’t hear what they asked him, but you could help but admire him. “That’s part of hockey. There’s going to be momentum swings. We really had to bounce back, but that just shows our character in our team. We’re all warriors in there and I think we proved it tonight.”

The reporter leaves, Tyson turning towards him. He was sweaty, disgusting, smelly, and all of that combined wasn’t enough to stop you from running into his arms as he picked you up in his arms and kissed you for the first time since the day you left. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he practically screams when he puts you down, kissing you again.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you tell him as he goes on about how excited he was that you were there.

“I think you’re a good luck charm,” he says, leading you out of the way from some of the other guys walking around the hallway and plopping you down on the floor. “Hey, I’ve been thinking,” he starts, his voice shaking.

You knew he was nervous by the sound of his voice. You gently squeeze his hand, the smile on his face growing bigger, “Yeah?”

“When you graduate, wherever I’m playing, or even if I’m not, I wanna be living with you.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you after graduation?” you ask him, his sweaty curls moving with his head. “You think we’ll still be together in three and a half years?”

He swallows, looking down at your hands intertwined, sitting on his thigh, “I can’t imagine my life any other way. It’s written on the ground of the gazebo.”

Twenty Two Years Old

You and Tyson were going home for the wedding of one of your cousins. You had been living together for a year now in Colorado, Tyson enjoying his fourth season in the league.

“Hey, can we make a quick pit stop before we head to the reception?” Tyson asks you when you get into the car. Your cousins, Lisa and Brendan get in the back seat, Tyson being deemed the designated driver for the night. You swear you see them smile at each other before looking back at the two of you.

“Yeah, sure, is that alright with you guys?” you ask them, making eye contact through the rearview mirror. They both nod, the four of you talking about the ceremony the entire way to wherever Tyson was taking you. His hands were shaking like he was nervous.

You pull into the park that was down the street from where you grew up. “Come on,” he says, rushing around the car to open the door for you and drag you through the grounds. Lisa and Brendan follow, keeping their distance as Tyson sprinted towards the gazebo.

“We haven’t been here since that night before we left for college,” you observe, looking out over the water that surrounded part of the structure. “Do you think our initials are still here?” you ask him, turning around to find him already on the ground.

“Yeah, right here,” he says, tracing his finger over your initials. He reaches up to pull you down next to him. “Did I ever tell you that my mom's best friend carved hers and her boyfriend's initials here, too?”

“No, do you know which one’s they are?”

He points to the ones by your knees, the same ones you had admired the night Tyson carved you there, MR and MD. “Matthias and Marianne. They’re probably the happiest couple I’ve ever seen.”

You stand back up, not wanting so much of your dress to be on the ground. You look for Lisa and Brendan, who are nowhere in sight. “Hey, where did-” you start, only to be cut off but what you saw in front of you.

Tyson shifted himself to one knee, a small box in his hands with the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen. “I know it’s kind of shitty to be doing this the day of someone else's wedding, but this is the only time I knew we would be here where we first promised to be with each other forever,” he says. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, suddenly thankful that you had brought makeup with you in your bag for touch ups. “You told me that night that no matter where in the world we were, we would always be together. I want to be together forever. I want to grow old with you, have a family with you, be the father to your children that I never got and be the man your dad always wanted you to end up with. I want to hold you close, protect you, love you. I want to be your husband. Y/N, will you marry me?” he asks, the tears falling down your face.

You shake your head yes, unable to let out more than a happy sob as he slips the ring on your finger, finally hearing Lisa and Brendan screaming as you take Tysons face in your hands and kiss him.

Twenty Four Years Old

You stood in the pink room, trying to rock your little girl to sleep. Tyson should be home at any minute from the road trip, but Viviana had been fussy the entire day. All you wanted was for her to go to sleep so you could go to sleep.

“I’m home,” you hear Tyson call from the doorway of your house, praying that he doesn’t come in yelling while you cradle your ten-month-old daughter in your arms. He appears in the doorway to her room, dropping his bag and tip-toeing up to you. He rubs your arms, kissing you on the cheek before pulling you close to him. He rests his chin on your shoulder, looking down at Viviana. “Can you believe how big she’s gotten?” he whispers to you as she finally nods off to sleep.

You lay her down in her crib, Tyson standing back and admiring how gentle you were with her. He hugs you from behind again, the two of you taking a moment to just look at your daughter. You lead him out of the room, closing her door carefully. “She is so beautiful,” you gush about your daughter even though she was the reason you were perpetually exhuasted.

Tyson hugs you, finally getting the chance to kiss you hello. “She takes after you. The room, though, is very pink.” You can’t help but laugh at the same observation he makes whenever he goes into her room. As soon as you found out you were having a girl, Tyson went overboard, buying every dress he could, little bows, cute socks, anything that looked like it was made for a girl, regardless of color or if it actually conformed to the gender construct, he bought, or convinced his teammates to buy for him so you couldn’t get mad at him for coming home with yet another Avalanche related baby item.

“I was nine months pregnant when you painted that, you know it’s your fault.” The two of you go to your own bedroom, you ready to crawl in bed even though it was the middle of the afternoon. “If she wakes up, can you take care of her?” you ask him, climbing under the sheets.

“Yeah, but before you go to sleep, I think we need to talk.” You look at him, knowing that sentence typically comes with bad news, but Tyson’s face said otherwise. “I know Viviana isn’t even a year old yet, and I know we said we would wait until she was, but I think I’m ready to try for another kid now,” he says, “Only if you are, too, of course.”

You look away from him, a picture of you and him looking down at Viviana right after she was born sitting in the frame on your bedside table. You knew Tyson wanted a big family, you wanted one with him. It was an easy decision: “Can we wait until after I get some sleep?”

The smile on his face grows, excited that you were going to be trying for a bigger family. He plants a soft, sweet kiss on your head as you gently fall to sleep.

Thirty Four Years Old

“Viviana Abigale, come down here!” you call to the birthday girl as your friends and family started showing up at your house. “Tyson, I think Cale and Gabe are here,” you say to your husband, hearing voices of his teammates carrying through your house indicating that Tyson had left the front door open for anyone to just walk in.

You hear your kids running through the house, three sets of feet pounding against the floor as everyone started to show up with gifts and more food.

It was Vivi’s tenth birthday, and Tyson insisted that you have a party to celebrate your oldest child turning double-digits. Part of you thought he just wanted to show off the house now that it was finally put back together after you had it redone, but he did more of the work in preparing. You were worried that would mean having a similar party with Alexander turned ten in two years, or when Jimmy did in four. Anything to have a party to celebrate your family, Tyson was the first to suggest you make it happen.

Soon, your house and yard were filled with everyone you loved, laughing, eating, the kids playing. You watched as Alexander chased Jimmy with one of the hockey sticks Tyson’s mom had kept from when he was little. Tyson must have seen the anxious look on your face, “Don’t worry, he won’t do anything. Alexander is harmless.” You both laugh as he hands you a glass of wine, you swirling around in the glass instead of taking a sip.

“Want to go inside?” you ask him, taking his hand. You set the class down on the counter, Tyson showing a look of confusion by the untouched glass. You lead him to the wall underneath the stairs, looking at all the pictures that were there. The latest school pictures of your three children, a picture of you and Tyson on your wedding day, a picture of the two of you that your mom took when you went to the school dance together when you were in your first year of high school. “God, do you remember that night?”

“I only remember what I was wearing because of that picture and that I wanted to dance only with you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

“You were fourteen, there’s no way that’s what you were thinking of,” you tease him. “You danced with me once that night and spent the rest of the night leaning against the wall with the rest of the boys.”

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you!” he argues back, his face turning red with the embarrassment he didn’t want.

You laugh, giving him a quick kiss, “I beat you up when we were five. Nothing you could do in front of me could be more embarrassing than that.”

The two of you stand there for a little while longer, staring at the pictures that were on the wall of your family. “Hey, Tys?”

“Yeah?”

“When we first got married, how many kids did you think we would have?”

He stops and thinks, knowing that he never explicitly told you, letting you decide how many you ultimately had. “I always wanted four.”

“Are you mad that we only have three?”

He looks at you. “Mad? Of course not.” How could he be mad that you gave him the three most beautiful children he could have asked for. They looked more like you than they did like him, but they definitely had his childish antics down to a t.

“Would you be mad if we had a fourth?”

“Again, of course not,” he says, confused by what you were trying to say. You smile at him, it finally clicking. “You’re-?” he starts, unable to figure out how to express his joy with words. You nod, him pulling you in for a tight hug. “Holy shit!” he screams, “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“There are children, Tys!” you say, laughing as you cover his mouth.

“We’re having another kid,” he says, his eyes lighting up.

“We’re having another kid.”

Fifty One Years Old

“Lucas!” you call to your youngest son, knowing he was the only other person in the house with you. You were trying to make dinner, one of Tyson’s favorite meals for his birthday.

“Yeah, Mom?” your sixteen year old says, not looking up from his phone as he walks into the kitchen.

Your hands were covered with raw meat, mixing everything up to prepare the stuffed burgers. “Can you run to the store and get me another onion?”

Lucas groans, in a typical teenage fashion. “Dad is already at the store getting you basil, can’t you just call him to get it?”

“No, because this is his phone,” you tell him, hitting the screen with your elbow so it doesn’t lock on you since that’s where the recipe is. “And it was parsley. The keys are by the door, there’s cash in my wallet, and yes I expect the receipt and know how much I had to start with,” you say to him.

He rolls his eyes at you, leaving for the store anyway. Lucas drives to the store, muttering to himself that you would send him out when Dad was already there. He laughs as he pulls in next to Dad’s car, knowing that he was bound to run into him while he was there. He wanders through the store, not looking for the onion in the slightest in hopes to find his father and tell him to get it so he can get home and go back to the game he was on with his friends.

Lucas finds Tyson in the spice aisle, standing there with two small bottles in his hands, one parsley, one basil. “She wanted parsley,” he says, startling his dad.

“I couldn’t remember what she said, so thank god you came,” he says, putting the basil back. “What did she send you to get?”

“An onion.” The two of them walk through the store, back to the produce that Lucas had already passed in hopes of getting out of there faster. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, bud?” he asks, examining the pile of onions as he tried to figure out which one would be the one his wife would pick.

“Mom has already sent you here four times this week, and now me twice. Why do you put up with it?” he asks, clearly annoyed.

Tyson laughs, picking up one of the onions and heading to check out. “I would do anything for her, no matter how ridiculous or how many times she asks me to do it.” He looks at his youngest son, the only one who looked more like him than you, “One day, hopefully, you’re going to find someone who you love more than anything on this Earth, and you would do anything in the world to make sure that they stay happy. This is part of what keeps your mother happy, so how could I not do it?”

Eighty Eight Years Old

You look around from the head table, Tyson’s hand in yours as your entire family has overtaken the restaurant. Viviana and her husband had picked you up at your house, telling you that she was taking out to her home for an anniversary dinner. You were instead taken to your favorite restaurant, greeted but your children, your grandchildren, your brother and his family, Kacey and her family, everyone you cared about.

You sit there, listening to your children and some of your grandchildren talk about what it means to be in love. “Dad would drop everything if Mom asked him to do something. There was nothing too ridiculous that she could ask of him.”

“Growing up, it was the stolen looks, Dad looking at Mom with love filling his eyes and her not noticing, or Mom doing the same to Dad, neither of them ever looking at the same time.”

“Look around at everyone here: love between two people creates love between more. We wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.”

Sixty five years.

Four children.

Thirteen grandchildren.

Currently five great grandchildren, two more on the way in a few months.

The perfect life, the perfect husband.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche #avalanche imagine #nh #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine

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elena-reina · 4 years

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Delusional - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: Could I request a Draco Malfoy imagine where there’s a Slytherin girl who’s also a pure blood and they both secretly like each other but are scared to admit it so they’re always bickering and competing to get the top grades etc. She also plays quidditch and during a match she gets hit by a bludger and thrown off her broom. After the match ends, Draco rushes to the hospital wing to check on her and they end up admitting their feelings to each other. Idk if it may be too specific:/ tysm!!! - Anon

A/N: Nothing is ever too specific for me, don’t worry :) Sorry it took me long to get to this I’ve had so much writers block on this, i hope you like it

Warnings: N/A

As you sat on a seat in your most dreaded class, Charms, small conversations could be heard all around you. It was your third class of the day and you were too tired to focus on anything. All you wanted to do was go back to the Slytherin common room, sit on a couch by the fire, and relax; perhaps even maybe knock out- most likely.

“Did you know, at Durmstrang they basically get away with anything and everything; depending who you are of course. If you’re one of the weak ones you get whipped in to shape, even if that means fighting it out with a dule or their bare hands,” Draco sits at the desk right behind you in Charms, being sure to speak a little extra loud, talking to whoever is sat next to him. Probably either Goyle or Crabbe.

“Looks like you could use some whipping, Draco,” You laugh without turning around, just loud enough for him to hear. “I mean really now, that sounds awfully better than you pointing your wand in my face with broken promises of hexing me.”

Draco lifted his Charms book and hit you on the head, causing you to groan and whip your head around.

“Watch it!” you snapped.

“Are you, Y/L/N, challenging me? If I remember correctly every time you try to “beat” me at something I always end up winning bird brain,” he taunted amusingly.

“You’re really delusional, you know that?” you muttered rolling your eyes, “You only choose what you want to remember and you’re calling me the bird brain?”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but was quickly cut short when Professor Flitwick walked around placing flipped over pieces of paper on each ones of your desks. Smiling knowing that you had the last word, you faced forward and flipped over your paper.

48/50. Not bad.

You turned back around to rub it in his face.

“What’d you get Malfoy? A 25?” you cackled.

He smirked, lifting his paper.

50/50.

Your mouth dropped agape and you huffed turning right back around in your seat.

“You’re such a cheat, I bet you already knew all the answers beforehand,” you complained. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms amused.

“Actually I did-”

“AH-HA!” you shouted pointing your finger in his face jeeringly, “So you admit-”

“All the answers were in the book we’re supposed to study.”

You zipped your mouth quickly, slowly lowering your hand. Turning back around for the last time, you slumped in your seat. If only you hadn’t missed those two questions.

After class you quickly collected all your things and rushed towards the Quidditch Pitch. You had a game in less than an hour and you wanted to get some practice in, especially since you were going against the Gryffindors this time.

“Do you always like to bicker or is this just a me and you kind of thing we have going on?”

You stopped in your tracks, closing your eyes and taking a breath in. Whipping around, you came face to face with the blonde boy following you in the empty corridor. He had a sly grin on the corner of his lips. He loved to tease you because of how riled you would get. At this point he does it just to please and entertain himself.

“You cause all of the so-called bickering, Malfoy,” you chuckle and continue with a wide grin, raising your eyebrow. “Why’re are you even following me. Got a little crush on me?”

He clears his throat, his grin falling off his face nervously. He didn’t know if you were being serious or not.

“A crush? On you? Now you’re the delusional one,” He stuttered, “Do you know what I think?”

“I don’t know, but I get the feeling you’re going to tell me anyways.”

He stepped closer so he could get a good look at your face. You stared at him unphased, keeping a blank expression on your face. Was that the same attitude you had with your interior- No, absolutely not.

“You know that old saying that goes ‘if they’re mean to you that they like you?’ I think you like me,” he teased.

His words caught you by surprise and you began to hysterically cough, choking over your own saliva. You hunch over, feeling that ache in your lungs gasping for air. You were beyond embarrassed- but you didn’t know whether it was from his words or your lungs completely giving up on you in the wrong moment in time. Draco chuckled to himself loving the effect he had on you and began to lightly pat your back.

Composing yourself, you stood up and realized just how much closer he got to you when you could feel the heat radiating off his skin onto yours. You took a step back, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear awkwardly.

“You’re crazy Malfoy. What’s given you that impression?” you tried to laugh off.

“Just a hunch,” Draco shrugged walking past you.

He’s joking. He has to be.

You stood there still feeling embarrassed. Scratching your head, you jogged and caught up with Draco one last time so you could have the last word.

“And just to warn you, if you ever touch me again I will scratch your face off,” you glared, flipped your hair over your shoulder, and strutted away to go to the Quidditch Pitch.

You quickly changed into your Slytherin Quidditch uniform. Looking at the time, the game was going to start soon, so you no longer had that extra time to practice since people would start to fill the seats.

You were the Chaser, so other than the Seeker, you had most eyes on you. The Chasers control the Quaffle and attempt to get it through the goal hoops past the Keepers.

Sounds easy right?

You held your Nimbus 2001 in your hand, along with your other teammates thanks to the courteousy of Malfoy’s father as the game was about to start soon.

“Huddle up!” Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, shouted aloud. Everyone came together, to listen to whatever boring speech he was going to go on about. His speeches never really mattered because everyone does their own thing anyway. As long as it helps us win, it doens’t matter what you do.

Zoning in and out of his speech, you rested your head on the side of your broom. You just wanted to go out there and play already. You had been waiting for this match since you first heard about it.

“Speaking of which, has anyone seen our Seeker? Where’s Malfoy?” Flint said catching your attention.

“Right here,” Malfoy spoke from right behind you, startling you. You jumped forward a bit, not expecting him to be so close behind you. You turned your head to look at him annoyed as he smirked and gave you a teasing wink. Groaning in disgust, you turned back around.

“Alright, hands in!” Flint shouted. You stuck your arm in the circle and shouted your chant, before dispersing and walking out of the locker rooms.

You all walked out of the tent and onto the Quidditch Pitch. On the other side of the Pitch were the Gryffindor players doing the same thing. Both of the teams met at the center and fanned out.

“Hey, Malfoy!” you called. He looked at you raising his eyebrow. “Try and actually catch the Snitch this time.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about you try and get the Quaffle through a hoop this time instead of sitting idle on your broom,” he hissed back. Offended, you stuck your middle finger to him and returned your gaze back to your opponents.

Malfoy held a hint of a smile, but it quickly shifted as he lowered his eyes and smirked, focusing back at the game at hand.

Madame Hooch marched onto the pitch and made her way next to the box that held the bludgers.

“Now, I want a nice clean game from all of you,” she stated looking at the Slytherins and then the Gryffindors.

“Captains, shake hands,” she stated firmly.

Marcus stepped forward and extended his hand towards Oliver Wood, emitting confidence. Marcus grasped Oliver’s hand and violently shook it for a few seconds being sure to squeeze hard before letting go roughly with a snarky smirk. He mounted his broom, taking off into the air above. You swung your leg over your broom, just as everybody else, and began to rise into the air.

Madame Hooch bent over and opened the trunk, releasing the Bludgers, Quaffle, and Snitch.

The game had begun.

You flew higher and higher, feeling the wind breeze past you. The air was refreshing as excitment filled the stands of the screaming houses. Looking around, being higher than the rest, you scanned the entirety of the arena and circling around the pitch. Every now and then you would catch the Quaffle and sent it soaring into the Gryffindor’s hoops, earning an accumulating ten points for your team. For about half an hour to forty-five minutes you did this at ease, occasionally also hearing the other team score.

You flew around the other players as you held onto the Quaffle, dodging everything and everyone who was around you.

“Y/N!” Your teammate shouted, catching your attention. You noticed a Gryffindor had just knocked a Bludger towards you in attemept to get the Quaffle from you. You dove your broom down and avoided the Bludger, thankfully, however you dropped the Quaffle in response. It was recovered by someone on Gryffindor and scored on Slytherin.

“Ugh! C’mon Y/L/N! FOCUS!” Flint shouted at you, roughly bumping into you.

“I’m the one who’s scored the most points on this team!” you shouted back, infuriated, “Why don’t you focus on yourself, Captain!”

“What did you just say to me?!” Flint growled forgetting about the game currently going on and instead arguing with you.

“I said-!”

“Y/L/N!”

The next thing you knew, you felt an excrutiating pain slam and knock you off of your broom, forcing the air to leave your lungs instantly. A bludger had taken you as a target since you were the Slytherin’s most valued Chaser. Out of reflex, you outstretched your arm, barely holding on with one hand on your broom, ignoring the pulsating pain. At this point, you could hear the crowd screaming in both horror for you and excitement for the teams playing.

You continued to spiral around and around as you skyrocketed towards the Quidditch Pitch floor, not really having the strength to pull yourself back up onto your broom. The pressure of the wind was slapping you everywhere it could. You were slowly losing consciousness and feeling the need to close your eyes and let go.

Just let go.

“I need to see her!” a voice boomed.

“You need to come back later, she’s resting right now Mr. Malfoy,” Pomfrey scolded.

You heard distant noises running around you as you felt an intense pounding running through your head. Slowly opening your eyes, you were blinded by the artificial lighting of what you assumed was most likely the Hospital Wing.

You attempted to lift yourself on your elbows but was unsuccessful as you hissed in pain and shot back down.

“Ow,” you quietly mumbled to yourself.

“She’s awake,” Draco said with annoyance lacing his voice, brushing past Pomfrey and made a beeline to you. Draco’s eyes were laced with concern as he knelt by the side of your bed with one knee and inspected you. You had bandages wrapped around your head and ribs. Pomfrey brought him a chair so he could sit down that he accepted immediately.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “How’re you feeling?” He helped you sit up so that you could properly look at him without lying down.

You stared at him confused. He just called you by your first name.

Was this a joke? Why is he being so nice? Why does he care?

“Worse, now that you’re here,” you decided to joke, but he showed no sign of amusement; Instead he seemed taken back. His grey eyes diverted themselves down, no longer looking at you and instead at his hand. He folded them and spoke.

“Alright, well I’ll leave you alone to rest then,” he said quietly and was about to stand up and leave. You wrapped your hand around his wrist and tugged him back.

“Malfoy, I was just kidding. Why’re you acting like this,” you asked furrowing your eyebrows. He sighed sitting back down. Draco was lost in thought with a millions things running through his head at once. He knew what he had to say, but he didn’t know how to go about it.

“You had gotten seriously injured earlier today, and you are terribly making jokes at times like this,” he half stated in disbelief and half chuckled.

You nibbled on the bottom of your lip. “Well... did you catch the Snitch?”

He rolled his eyes, irritated at your lack of self-care. “Not that it is of any significance in this moment right now, but yes. Yes I did catch it I’ll have you know.”

Your eyes lit up. “Yes!” you shouted, instinctively raising your fist in the air in victory, but instantly regretted it as you hissed in pain lowering your arm.

He scooted closer to you to help steady your arm as his hand lightly grazed over your hand. Shivers ran down your spine as you looked at him. He was so focused on your arm that he didn’t notice you staring at him.

“Draco,” you began.

“I have to admit something.” he suddenly blurted out, raising his gaze.

You had a feeling you knew where this was going, but you were nervous. You didn’t know what to expect, especially with him.

Were you getting kicked off the team? Doubt it.

Was he going to tell you some terrible bad news? Maybe.

Is he going to tell you about another test score that he beat you on? Perhaps.

He sat on the bed and wrapped his arms around you. It felt warm. He started to feel warmer with you in his arms.

“You do? Well now would be the best time to tell me I’m better than you while you can before I reach my deathbed,” you teased, trying to get some sort of smile out of him.

However once again, he did not find it amusing whatsoever.

“Y/N, I’m trying to be serious here,” he said.

“Oh... well I’m waiting.” you said quietly and looked up at him. He grabbed your hand into his and held them. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt your cheeks getting warmer with a blush slowly creeping up them. Your Y/C/E looked down at his hands holding yours and quickly back up into his grey eyes.

“I wasn’t meaning to pour out my feelings in these type of circumstances, but I don’t think I can withhold them any longer,” he began.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I have feelings for you Y/N Y/L/N... strong ones and the moment I saw you fall off of your broom and hit the floor, my whole heart dropped. I wanted to go to you in that very moment, but I knew the Professors wouldn’t let any of us near you until after the game. You have no idea how badly I just wanted to fly down and run over to you-” he began rambling.

“Draco-”

“The moment I caught the Snitch, I came rushing over here, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let me see you at all; So I waited all day waiting for you to wake up. If you hadn’t woken up just now, I probably wouldn’t have seen you until tomorrow or who knows how long-” he continued

“Dracom listen I-”

“And I know I have been teasing you for the longest, but I never say anything with an intent to hurt you and if I have i’m apologizing here for it right now. But what I’m trying to say is that I love you Y/N, and I know you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know how I feel because I don’t know how much longer I could have gone without telling you that-

You knew you couldn’t get him to shut up any other way or even tell him you were feeling the same way. So you sat up at a better angle facing him and grabbed his face with your other free hand. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his, catching him off guard. His eyes were at first as wide as they can be, but slowly closed as he relaxed into the kiss.

He snaked one arm around your waist, carefully being gentle with you due to your injuries and pulled you closer to him, while his other hand cradled the back of your neck comfortably.

Not a moment later you felt his lips encasing your lower lip as you captured his upper lip. You slid your arms over his shoulders and clasped them around his neck. All you felt was pure surpressed passion that was long overdue. You never wanted the moment to end, and neither did he. However, he pulled away, leaving you wanting more when it came to an end.

“I.. wow. Draco, I don’t know what to say. That was...”

“The most amazing thing I’ve ever done in my life right now,” he finished for you.

Your cheeks grew hotter the more you got flustered as you stared at each other in silence for a few moments before you decided to speak up.

“So, does this mean that we are...”

“Together?” he finished again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He let out a cheeky grin and gave you one more peck on your lips. He grabbed your hand a slowly intertwined each of your fingers between the spaces on his hand, holding your hand firmly in his. His raised your hand to his lips and pressed a longing kiss to it. His lips lingered there as he made eye contact with you, keeping his gaze on you and lowered your hand.

“How about I take you out on a date, and we see where this leads us next,” he spoke. You nodded, smiling from ear to ear.

“Deal.”

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lumosinlove · 4 years

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Sweater Weather

part xvii

A/N:

Hey team!

I just want to pop in before the chapter to say a HUGE thank you to those who sent me letters!

Thanks to Hannah for your letter and O’Knutzy necklace! It’s AMAZING.

I want to thank Giana for your gorgeous letter (I’ll answer your questions in a separate post and I’m so glad you’re writing again!)

Thank you Kennedy for the painting, earrings, shark sticker (yay marine biologist!) and letter with the dried flowers :)

Thank you Alba for your SW art and your letter—yay to being there from the beginning!!

Thanks to Sophie for your kind words and letter!

Thank you Stephanie for your letter (and beautiful handwriting wow) and of course your gifts! I love the bookmarks and pin!

And last but certainly not least thank you to Alaena! I love that you included what asks you sent in XD and the STICKERS. I can’t decide if I want to put them on things or hang them all up on my bulletin board :) They’re incredible.

Thank you everyone, you’re all so thoughtful and kind!!

With SW ending soon (at least this fic, but this universe will never be over for me!) it is so incredibly lovely to hear what it means to you all. I feel so luck every single day that you guys love this team as much as I do. You thank me for this story, but I think the best part of fiction is that it expands and evolves differently in each mind it touches. Tumblr is such a freakin gift because I get a little glimpse into how you all think about these characters. So, I’m saying thank you to YOU. It’s truly a privilege to hear from you all. <3

If you feel like sending me anything, there is a link to my P.O. Box in my tumblr description! <3

Okay my mushy rant is done. Here’s chapter seventeen :)

Remus forgot his own birthday.

Lily had to remind him, bringing out a cake while he and Sirius had spent the day playing with baby Harry. Harry Potter. Harry James Potter.

The team adored him. Remus would never forget the sight of an entire team of hockey players, fresh off a plane, and crammed into a hospital room to peer at the small head of dark hair in Lily’s arms.

Minus one. Minus two, if what Sirius said was true, and Remus was part of the team. Remus had looked at the picture that Pascal had sent him from beside a sleeping Sirius and a heart monitor.

He had looked at the picture, and then at Sirius, and the relief doubled.

Four broken ribs. Bad, but it could have been worse. So much worse. A few days in Vegas to be monitored, just in case. Then, home.

Home for Remus’ birthday, home and in pain, but smiling none-the-less. Harry was a welcomed distraction from it all—the press, the hurt, the uncertainty. Lily seemed to know this without it needing to be said. Remus had told her she had enough going on without worrying about a cake, but Lily had just waved him off and cut them all large slices of the chocolate fluff.

Sirius, meanwhile, had somehow slipped a simple golden necklace around Harry’s neck, and when Remus looked down next, there it had been. A shining gold star pendant. The message had been clear. Sirius’ name-sake and Sirius himself—something to make a wish on.

Remus took a weeks off of work, all that he could.

Road-trips were a blur. Practices were anxious. The team was anxious.

March 27th.

Eight weeks. Sirius had been out for eight weeks. Resting, and stuck in his big house. Remus never thought he would be so thankful for Regulus.

“I’d rather be here than Slytherin any day, even though he whines like a baby when you’re gone.”

“Non,” Sirius would protest.

Regulus would raise an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

Remus would sneak into Sirius’ bedroom whenever he got home late, press one, two, three, four gentle kisses across his chest, and take his place on the other side of the pillow, carefully placed so that Sirius didn’t roll over during the night.

Sirius whined a good deal about that, too. And getting back on the ice.

“I just…I want to be back in case we make it to…” the playoffs.

The team was close. So close.

Sirius had only recently been allowed to come to the rink, suit and all, for home games to sit in the team box. It was strange, looking up from the bench at the jumbotron and seeing the image of Sirius there, standing with his arms crossed, sometimes with a beanie on, making his eyes look intense as he focused on the game in front of him. He was completely unreadable—to everyone but Remus. Remus could tell when he was happy with the team’s playing, when he was annoyed at their opponents. The internet was crawling with gifs of Sirius’ stormy eyes. Remus had more than a few saved, and they frequented the team group chat.

Remus looked up now, but all the jumbotron was showing was James, who had been taking lead in Sirius’ absence, talking quickly to Finn. Remus could see his own legs in the background.

The Stars were up 4-1, and there was ten minutes left in the second period. If they won this game, and they won the next game, they were in. And Sirius would be back the week after that—hopefully in time for the first playoff game, and not for an all-too-long summer vacation. Although, honestly, right then, Remus thought Sirius deserved either one. A chance at the Cup, or a break, a chance to rest up. To be together.

Leo was in net, Kasey resting up his thigh that continuously bothered him. Leo was skating a slow circle after the Stars scored yet another goal, tracing the blue crease with his stick. Remus could practically feel his furious calm.

“Big Rig may experience different weather up there, but he sure as hell has more gravity. Tremzy,” James knocked his helmet with his glove. “Don’t let him catch you, eh?”

“We gotta come back from this shit,” Finn said as he followed Logan over the boards. “For Leo. Leaving him out to dry out there. No.”

“For Cap,” Thomas said, coming back over the boards and breathing hard.

“Gotta put my baby in that silver crib!” James followed his wingers, a center for now.

“Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, be ready,” Coach called. “You’re on deck.”

“The oven is hot tonight,” Elias Cook said, pouring water over his neck.

“Stop saying that,” Kasey shook his head. “Jesus.”

“He can’t help the heat, Baby Bliz,” Thomas said.

Kasey just shook his head and looked back to the game.

Remus leaned in over Thomas’ shoulder. “That was a hit, Talkie, you good?”

“I’m hot,” Thomas said around his mouthguard.

Remus snorted, patting his shoulder pad. “You sure are.”

James lined up for the face off, Finn and Logan jostling against Benn and Perry. Logan dug his skates in when the ref dropped the puck and James whipped it back to him. Logan darted forward into the Stars’ zone, tailed closely.

“C’mon, Tremz,” Remus murmured.

Logan shot the puck off to Finn who got battered against the boards almost immediately by Benn, but got it smoothly to Olli, who sent it sailing back towards the Stars’ net. James was there behind the crease, Khudobin pushed out the wrong way—

James curled it in from behind and the Gryffindor goal horn blared.

“Fuck!” Thomas rose to his feet, knocking his stick against the boards. “Atta boy, baby-daddy!”

4-2 until the buzzer sounded and they were heading back down the tunnel. Remus glanced up at the screen one more time, and only just caught Sirius, smile plastered on as he was shown shaking the hands of a few older men. Remus suppressed a smile, and followed the team off of the ice for second intermission.

The locker room was subdued, and Sirius came in while Remus was crouched by Logan, taping up a jammed finger. He walked up to Coach first, leaning his elbows on the podium where he controlled the projector. Remus watched as he pointed to a few of the plays drawn up on the whiteboard, Coach nodding along.

“I can do this,” Logan said. “Leave with your moon eyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but tore off the tape and rose. “You’re all set. Try and keep it safe during third.”

“Oui,” Logan said, already sliding his headphones back on. Finn rose to get a fresh jersey, brushing a palm over the back of Logan’s neck on his way. Logan’s eyes followed him as he went to Leo next, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees in his stall, head down and airpods in. Finn squeezed himself in beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned in to press a few kisses to his neck, murmuring soft words. Leo closed his eyes and pressed into him.

“Hey.”

Remus turned away from the two to meet Sirius’ eyes. He was smiling, a good break from the grimace Remus had become used to.

“Hi,” Remus said and pressed a hand over the familiar bandage, thick beneath Sirius’ suit and shirt. “Feeling okay?”

“I’m good,” Sirius leaned down, right in the locker room, and kissed him. His mouth was gentle, leisurely. “I feel good.”

Remus smiled into it, and took his hand. “Good. Come on.”

Sirius followed him, hand in Remus’, into the training office.

“Ten minutes until show time,” Remus said in the dim space and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Are you really feeling okay? Been on your feet for a while, I’ve been watching.”

“Loops, I come back soon. I’m healed, I’ve started light exercise. It’s just a matter of insurance.” Sirius leaned into him, lips brushing his. “You seemed to think I was fine last night.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah, I definitely think you were fine last night.”

Sirius smiled, but then his expression turned more grave. He bit his lip, and ran his hands up and down Remus’ sides a few times, almost as if to comfort himself. “Fuck, I want this for the team so bad.”

Remus nodded. This was a conversation they had been having more often than not. “I know. And they know. You want it for them, but baby, they want it for you. They’re out there doing their fucking hardest for you. I don’t think you should start preparing for the worst. Not yet. Hockey’s a fast game.”

“We’re just—we’re so close. And fucking Grayback and…and if we win this game, we just have to beat Vegas again and we’re in. And I won’t get to fucking be out there because of fucking Grayback. And he’s not even suspended anymore—”

Remus kissed him, and Sirius mumbled for a moment into it before relaxing.

“Two games,” Remus said. “Home. Then Vegas. We beat Grayback, take a chance at the cup away from him. That’s the best we can do.”

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. “How are you so okay with all of this?”

“What’s the alternative? Obsessing over him? He’s not worth it. At all.”

They looked up at the sound of the team noisily making their way back down the tunnel, shouts and whistles, trying to psych themselves up for a come back.

“Third,” Remus said, then tucked his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him again. “You’re competitive. I love you for it. But, baby, you’ve already beaten him. You beat him a long time ago.”

Remus kissed Sirius’ slowly smiling mouth again and again before rushing out the door.

Sirius made his way back up to the box. He watched the other members’ eyes follow him as he slipped back into the private room. There was an absurd array of food and drinks on a table, designed to impress members and investors. Sushi rolls and miniature hot dogs, popcorn in Lions colored cardboard boxes. Red-frosted cupcakes and lion head cake-pops. Sirius took a cupcake. He’d already beaten Grayback. Remus had just kissed him. His ribs had healed well. It all called for a cupcake.

“Really letting yourself off, eh?”

Sirius looked up at a man. He was wearing a white collared shirt under one of Sirius’ jerseys. Obviously a fan, obviously nervous, obviously important given the way one of the managers was looking at him talking to Sirius.

“No,” Sirius said plainly. “I’m having a cupcake.”

There were laughs from around him, as if Sirius was the funniest guy in the room. Sirius didn’t feel funny. This guy was making him miss puck drop.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Mike. Real doozy you slapped the world with.”

Sirius took it tightly, cupcake in his other hand. “I wasn’t aware that I did the slapping.”

“Probably broke a lot of hearts though.”

Sirius looked at Mike the way he looked at opponents on the ice. He watched him blink, watched his body language change.

“I was thinking about my own heart. Désloé, how do we know each other again?”

“Oh. Well—”

“Right,” Sirius nodded. “Enjoy the game.”

Sirius walked towards the box’s edge, unwrapping his cupcake. He could see the entire stadium from up here, the teaming mass of red and gold, the team readying themselves on the ice. A tiny glimpse of Remus on the bench. Coach was gesturing and talking. He watched his own face on the jumbotron as he took a bite of the dessert. He found the camera and flashed it a thumbs up, waving his arms upwards and listening to the crowd’s cheers roar in time with his hands. He caught glimpses of rainbow flags in the crowd, signs with number twelve decked out in the colors. It was a nice contrast to the signs that Sirius saw on his way into the stadium. Defaced number twelve jerseys, slurs, people jeering at his window as he drove through security. Interesting, to see who was inside, and who was not.

The puck dropped and James won it. James who, despite them being down, was hot tonight. No doubt riding the adrenaline of Harry and Lily at home, of being named temporary captain, of being so close to what they all dreamed of.

Sirius couldn’t think it, not even in his head.

The puck seemed to be frozen in the central zone, both teams battling too hard. A stalemate in aggressive trench warfare. Back and forth, back and forth with no progress. Sirius crumpled the cupcake wrapping between his fists and cupped them together, shoulders tense.

“Allez…” he whispered to himself.

The camera was on him again, and he looked stony even to himself. He raised his eyes to it and pointed a finger down at the game. Show that, he mouthed.

The Lions goal horn blared. Logan had scored.

Sirius knew the camera caught his reaction on camera. He put his fists up, relief bubbling out of him in a shout.

“Allez, Tremzy!”

The crowd was going wild. Finn slammed Logan into the boards in celebration and the jumbotron replayed the beautiful tip-in. 4-3. Things weren’t so impossible anymore.

Sirius squeezed the wrapper in-between his hands again and set his elbows on the ledge.

“Play Kuny, play Kuny…” Sirius muttered under his breath. He would match Oleksiak. Sure enough, Coach sent Kuny’s line over the boards a second later. Nado and Evan Kane followed him, Fox and Sunqvist on defense.

“No power plays,” Sirius prayed. “Come on, Nado, no stupid penalties.”

“Do you always talk to yourself in French while playing?”

Sirius stiffened. Mike was back.

“Non, parfois je parle en russe.”

Mike blinked. “What?”

“Laisse-moi tranquille, homme intrusif,” Sirius grinned sharply. “I said only sometimes. Usually on the bench.”

That seemed to make Mike happy. “Hey, you’re really superstitious, right?”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

Like being alone in the team box, Sirius thought bitterly. Like getting a blowjob from my boyfriend before a game, you know, that doozy I slapped the world with?

“There’s a lot of them,” Sirius said. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to watch this.”

Mike nodded quickly. “Oh, of course, of course.”

Sirius shifted away a little when he didn’t move, tried to focus on the ice. The puck had dropped and it was on Evgeni’s stick. He was carrying it quickly up the ice, seeming to cut through the players with his broad shoulders. Sirius imagined he could hear his deep voice, calling for Nado to look alive. The pass connected, but Seguin tapped it out of Nado’s hands from behind and sent it up the ice quickly to Benn.

“Merde,” Sirius said. The Lions were changing and then it was Pascal’s line with Elias and Brady, Olli and Timmy on defense. Benn managed to get around Olli, and then—

Leo was pushing far out of the crease and aggressively jabbed the puck right from Benn’s stick and onto Pascal’s waiting one. Leo slid back into the crease like a water snake. The stadium was chaos.

Knutty, Knutty, Knutty, was the chant. It filled the air itself. The jumbotron showed the bench briefly, Logan and Finn and Thomas grinning up at the stands. Pascal still had the puck.

His solid form darted up a clear channel, catching the Stars in a slow shift change. He was in front of the goal, Sirius squeezed the wrapper between his palms. Pascal faked by lifting his left leg, Khudobin went for it, and Pascal slid it right between his pads, neat and tidy.

They tied the game. They tied up the game. Sirius pushed back from the railing with a long breath as a TV break began. The Lions ice crew came out to some pop song and began their sweep. Sirius looked down at his bench and yearned to be with them. He rubbed his hand absentmindedly over his ribs. They were healed. He had a few more sessions with Remus left and then he would be back. He would be back.

He thought of the hit.

He hadn’t known what was wrong. There had been no air in his lungs. But Remus had been his first thought. He knew who hit him, he had seen his face before he hit the ice.

Remus.

This would hurt Remus.

“Wait, has a what?”

His own voice over the jumbotron drew him out of his thoughts. It was a pre-recorded interview, one of the fluff ones that they played for fun to entertain the crowd.

Marlene’s voice from off screen repeated the question. “Which one of your teammates has a life-sized Stormtrooper, R2-D2 and C-3PO action figure in their apartment?”

They showed his own face again, laughing and thinking. “Oh. Um.”

It switched to James, arms crossed and actually thinking about it. He pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed. “I don’t know, Finn and Leo? That seems like a weird Harzy thing.”

It cut to Finn. “That’s not weird. I wish it was me. I’ll convince Nut, don’t you worry.”

Pascal looked unimpressed, sitting easily in the chair. “There is only one person this could be, and that person spent the first two months of his time in the U.S. with only the phrases, You’re my only hope, and I’m your father, to his vocabulary. Oh, and the word no.”

Sunny was laughing. “I know exactly who this is.”

Nado looked pained. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen Star Wars now? Do you have any idea?”

Finally, the screen cut to Evgeni, smiling, tongue jokingly between his teeth. “Good for English, you know?” He held up his hands. “I am Force.”

The video ended with a swoop of the Lions’ logo, and even Sirius could help but smile. There was eight minutes left in the period.

Eight minutes to pull ahead.

They would do it.

The Stars had called a time out, and so James, Logan, and Finn were milling around the ice together, keeping their muscles warm. Leo was looping around the goal.

They were ready.

Seguin faced off against James, both of them leaning forward.

Seguin won it.

There was a fleury when James was pinned to the boards by Oleksiak, but Logan was there to steal the puck from beneath his feet.

The clock had dwindled down to four minutes when a whistle blew with a slashing penalty on the Stars. Pascal and Thomas joined James on the ice for the power play unit.

Sirius could feel the energetic restlessness of the crowd. They all knew what this could mean. Sirius let out a shaky breath and looked at the wrapper in his hands. He thought of Remus. Remus, and his long list of superstitions. But what pulled him through had been himself. Sirius held it anyway, but he held his Lions closer.

They were ready.

They set themselves up in a triangle, a tic-tac-toe, in front of the Stars’ goal. The sent it to each other quickly, boxing the defensemen in. Finally, James got it to Evgeni, who slapped it with a one timer and—

The goal horn. 00:24 seconds remaining.

The crowd was already singing with victory. The Stars tried for one last push, but Leo snatched the puck right out of the air with his glove.

00:03.

Done.

Sirius pushed his hands through his hair in relief. “Merde.”

Sirius was out of the box before anyone could even think about congratulating him, jogging down the private staircase and towards the locker room. He made it to the player’s hallway before he was stopped by a smiling Alice.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Can we just get a few questions in?” She gestured over to where Marlene was standing with a microphone, talking to a dark haired girl holding a camera. Alice raised an eyebrow. “It’s only Marlene.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Alice patted his arm. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said and shoved his hands into his pockets while looking at Marlene expectantly.

“Okay, McKinnon, let’s go.”

Marlene scoffed. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Cap, how are you? Ribs, mind, in general.”

Sirius relaxed a little. If he had to do interviews, he preferred Marlene above all else. “I’m healing well. Ready to get back on the ice.”

Marlene narrowed her eyes at his short response and he smiled. That made her smile. Those were rare for the press, and she had just caught one.

“Any thoughts you want to share about how the majority of the world is responding to you lately? By my calculations, you’re quite the icon and inspiration—not that you weren’t before of course.”

Sirius laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Um,” he cleared his throat. When he looked up he could see Remus down the hall a little ways. He was talking to Kasey who was still fully dressed. Remus looked beautiful and strong and…And Sirius just… He hated questions like this but he just—

“Someone is always going to find something wrong with you,” Sirius said. “With what you say. With what you do. My job is not to please, you know? My job is to play hockey, sure, but, really, my job is to be the person I want to be, do the things I believe are right, do the things I love. With the people I choose to love. I think that’s everyone’s job,” Sirius found Remus beyond the cameras again, along with everything he had ever wanted. He looked back to Marlene. “That took me a long time to learn. They say, have a thick skin and an open heart. Before, all I had was a thick skin. Now, I’ve found someone who can help me have both. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that.”

“And that was an interview with a surprisingly heartfelt Captain Sirius Black,” Lee Jordan broke off in a laugh. “Earlier this game we also got to see him telling the cameras, show the game, show the game. Pointing down at the ice. Outstanding. That’s a layer of the Captain that I don’t think we see very often. From what I hear, the dude’s funny, though, Dean. Now, let’s take a look at the Lions’ top scorers. With the Captain out, that would be Logan Tremblay, James Potter, and, that’s right, one of the oldest in the league, Pascal Dumais…”

“What is that?” Remus said, appearing in front of Sirius where he was waiting in the PT room and drawing his attention away from the television. Remus peered at his hands.

“Oh,” Sirius felt himself flush as he looked down at the cupcake wrapper, more like a tiny ball of oily paper now. “I was holding this when Logan scored, so…”

Remus laughed. “So, you had to hold it the entire period. And now it’s practically falling apart. You’re not keeping that.”

“But it—” Remus grinned as Sirius surrendered the wrapper. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Remus said, and Sirius looked up. Remus was flushed from the game, eyes bright with the win. He leaned up and kissed him hotly, then softly. Sirius had to blink a few times when he pulled away.

“You always had an open heart,” Remus said. “That’s obvious to anyone who knows you. Who loves you.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Someone cleared their throat. “Sorry…”

They looked up to see Kasey, now in just some basketball shorts. “Hi.”

“Hey, Bliz, I’m ready for you,” Remus said, then looked up at Sirius. “I can get the subway back if you wanna go home to Regulus.”

“Non, non, I’ll wait,” Sirius said, and bumped fists with Kasey on his way out.

Remus smiled after him for a moment, then at Kasey. “So, thigh?”

Kasey nodded, eyes shifting downward, then back to Remus again. “Yeah.”

Remus paused, brows drawing together. “Kasey, are you—”

“Hey, Kase?” Natalie appeared in the doorway. She had her long blonde hair drawn back in two dutch braids and a Blizzard jersey on over a gray sweatshirt with the hood spilling out. Her smile wasn’t as bright as usual.

“Hi, Remus,” she said. “Baby, I’m gonna go say hi to Marlene. Just text me when you’re all set okay?”

“Hi, Nat,” Remus said slowly.

Kasey nodded, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Okay.”

He hopped up on the table and lay on his back while Remus got ready.

“Just the thigh that’s bothering you?” Remus said carefully. He pushed Kasey’s shorts up his thigh to get at the tense muscle and carefully began kneading the muscles. The post-game played softly on the television while Remus waited for Kasey to speak.

“Will it always be like this, Loops?” Kasey asked quietly after a few moments.

Remus looked up at where Kasey was reclining on the padded table with his fingers across his chest. Remus, if he was being honest with himself, had been waiting to have this conversation with Kasey for a while.

Kasey looked back at him. “It acts up more often than not. I can’t play if I can go down, I…I can’t—”

“I know,” Remus said softly. “I know, Kase. Look.” Remus moved down to his knee, smoothing the muscle firmly. “This injury…it’s a tough one. It takes a long time to heal. It takes time and endurance. So, my answer is no. It won’t always be like this. It just takes time.”

“What if I don’t have time?” Kasey’s voice was even quieter. “I’m a goalie. Sometimes we have less—”

“Kase,” Remus looked at him. “You’re twenty six years old. You do.”

Kasey groaned as Remus pressed his knee out to the side, loosening the muscle slowly. “Fuck.”

“We’ll do some strength training next practice, okay? We’ll make a schedule, I’ll work with you. And we have a day off tomorrow. I’ll send you some videos to do at home if you want, or you can rest.” Remus smiled a little. “Or Natalie can help you stretch.”

Kasey smiled and it seemed easier. “When you say stretch…”

Remus laughed. “That’s the point. Look, you will heal, but you also have to enjoy the rest of your life. Hockey’s everything, and not everything at the same time. I’m gonna give you some salve, okay? And then you’ll be good for the night. Rest.”

Kasey nodded. “How’s Cap doing?”

“He’s okay,” Remus said, warming up the muscle salve between his palms. “Wants to be out there with you guys.”

“We want him there,” Kasey sat up on his elbows and watched Remus’s hands. “What about baby Black?”

Remus snorted. “Good. I mean, happy he’s here. The whole Snake runaway thing is sort of up in the air. The Snakes have their lawyers on his ass about his contract, and Minnie thinks he might have to go public with some pretty horrific stories to prove that they breached it.”

“Horrific stories…”

Their eyes met somberly. “I know.”

“Jesus,” Kasey sighed as he sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down at his leg. “That feels better. I…I feel better.”

“Good. Try and stay off it as much as you can, okay? Nat loves you to death, don’t tell me she won’t get you what you need.”

“Oh, she will,” Kasey smiled and eased himself carefully off the table. “Thanks, Loops.”

“Bliz,” Remus said, and Kasey turned to look back. “You have time and life and everything else. Really.”

Kasey nodded. He smiled a serious sort of smile. “You’re right. I get in my head.”

“You’re a goalie. That’s part of the job.”

Kasey laughed, flipped him off, and closed the door behind him.

Sirius was waiting for him on one of the couches in the player’s lounge, eyes closed and beanie on his head. His shoulders looked broad in his dark winter coat and suit.

“Hi, handsome,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius with his hands resting against the back of the couch on either side of his head.

Sirius’ eyes opened and he smiled. “Salut.”

“Ready to go home?”

“Regulus says he’s out with Leo. Day off and all that,” Sirius tilted his chin up, silently asking. “House to ourselves.”

Remus pushed himself back upright. “Let’s go.”

“I’m glad Regulus had Leo,” Remus said as he stood in Sirius’ massive but mostly empty closet. He picked out one of Sirius’ t-shirts and sweatpants and pulled them on. “They’re both eighteen and both have a lot of pressure to deal with, even if it’s, you know, different pressure. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Sirius said as he came back into the bedroom from the bathroom. His torso looked lean in his his sweatpants, the bruising finally faded. "And thankful to Leo. He didn’t have to reach out, you know?” Sirius collapsed onto the bed with a smile, bouncing a little. “Now, let’s stop talking about my brother.”

“Nope, no bed yet. Come on.”

“Loops.”

“You want to play next week, you do this with me now. Let’s go.”

Sirius let Remus wrangle him downstairs and into the gym. Sirius put on some music and then Remus lay him out in just his sweatpants on a soft mat and led him through the breathing exercises and some of the light core work that was on his recovery plan. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, the two of them laughing as his hands wandered to Remus’ hips. Remus had to admit that, now that Sirius wasn’t in pain, watching him spread out on the mat like this got him. His softly moving chest, his hard muscles, the shadowed curl of his hair on his temples. He let it get him, there in the privacy of Sirius’ basement. Sirius noticed.

He smiled the next time he raised up in a crunch, abs working, hands behind his head. “Maybe I could use some incentive.”

Remus raised an eyebrow from where he was by Sirius’ bent knees. “Oh?”

Sirius pushed up and held there until Remus bent so he could kiss Remus lightly, then lowered back down.

The next time he came up, he brought Remus down with him. He parted his knees so Remus could settle between them. Sirius’ chest was warm from the exercise, his heartbeat even. Remus sighed into his kisses.

“We should go easy, we have the party at Pascal’s tomorrow—”

“I’m perfect,” Sirius said, and rolled them gently so that Remus was on his back now, Sirius hovering over him. “I feel perfect. I want you so bad.”

It had been a bit of a challenge. They’d been on strict no-sex orders, given to them rather sheepishly by Sirius’ doctor while he was still in the hospital. It had been a lot of Remus trying to sneak a quick jack-off in the shower, trying not to make things harder on Sirius, only to come out of the shower to a glowering, turned-on boyfriend.

Getting the all clear had been spine-melting, and it had sort of been that way ever since. Still, sex was few and far in between. Regulus was in the house more often than not, and even if it was a big house, Remus didn’t think it was the best idea to invite him to stay only to sneak off to Sirius’ bedroom.

Regulus had received the message quickly though, and told them clearly enough when he would be out for a while.

Remus shuttered when Sirius’ hardening cock dragged across his own.

“Fuck, are we really doing this in the gym?” Remus panted out a laugh. He was already so turned on that it ached. His dick pressed insistently against the band of his sweatpants, and when Sirius next dragged his hips down, the loose fabric pulled away to expose the shiny head of his cock. Remus moaned. “Sirius, fuck…fuck, I—”

“No lube,” Sirius said. “Shit, I…”

Remus just pushed Sirius’ sweatpants down over his ass, making his cock fall free, bobbing and stiff, and tugged his own sweatpants down until his hips and thighs were exposed. Remus pushed their hips together, mouth open. It was plenty wet, Sirius cock already beginning to shine at the head.

Sirius fucked his hips forward steadily against Remus, the friction making him squeeze his eyes shut. Remus felt Sirius’ lips against his neck, and wrapped his arms around him. He felt sort of frantic with it, lazily happy with how much he loved this.

“Love you,” he murmured as Sirius pushed forward with a well-aimed thrust. “Fuck, baby, yeah…”

“Not bad for a core workout,” Sirius said into his skin.

Remus laughed, even as pleasure sparked at the edges of his vision. His cock felt heavy and sensitive against his stomach.

“Don’t overdo it,” Remus said. “Here.”

Remus pushed at Sirius’ shoulders until Sirius groaned and rolled onto his back.

“I’m fi—”

His complaints died on his tongue when Remus pressed up all along his side, cock trapped between them, and wrapped a hand around Sirius. He kept his strokes even and tight, running his fingers down over his full balls, the vein on the underside. Sirius was hot in his hand, precome thin and leaking over the back of Remus’ hand. Remus kissed Sirius, tongue sliding into his mouth, and more heat trickled over his fingers. Remus felt like he could come just like that. It was almost—surreal. He was so turned on, especially for not even having done that much. He had just been taking Sirius through his exercises one moment, and then Sirius had taken him between his thighs and he was done for.

“Re, let me,” Sirius breathed, and his fingers found his own cock for a moment before wrapping around Remus’ shoulders to reach behind him, rubbing over the swell of his ass.

Heat pooled in Remus stomach and made his hand stutter, gripping Sirius tighter. “Fuck, yes…”

Sirius’ fingers were soft and slow as they worked their way inside of Remus. It was a little dry, but Remus let his temple pitch forward onto Sirius’ chest as Sirius fingered him. He stroked Sirius slowly, dazed by the contrast between his own pale fingers and the darker, flushed skin of him. He wished he could see Sirius’ hand.

“There,” Remus gasped suddenly. “Ah—”

Sirius pressed him in gentle, slow strokes. It was different, being touched there and not his cock. Remus pushed into the feeling, his cock trapped and still between them. It wasn’t enough to do much except let Sirius’ fingers build a painfully slow pressure inside him. His eyes were lidded as he stroked Sirius’ cock until it was rock hard in his palm. He threw a leg over Sirius’ thighs so that Sirius could push into him deeper, finger curving against his prostate.

Remus just moaned.

“I’m gonna come soon, mon loup,” Sirius panted, hips straining up once, twice. “Loops—”

Remus sped up his hand, swiping his thumb over the swollen head, and then Sirius’ hips jerked. Come dripped lazily over Remus’ fingers, more and more of it, in thick white pulses. Remus’ dick throbbed at the sight, at Sirius’ fingers, tense from his orgasm, pressing hard inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, gasping. His hand had stilled against the base of Sirius’ cock, and he could feel him pulsing there, cock throbbing through his orgasm. Sirius’ head had fallen back against the mat, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath Remus’ chest. It was a mess on his hips and Remus’ fingers.

“Fuck. Oh—” Sirius moaned as Remus started stroking him again. His cock strained valiantly, but it was spent and softening. “C’mere, Loops, fuck.”

Sirius turned into Remus, fingers twisting inside of him. It gave him a better angle, and when he moved next, he doubled down.

Remus could only hold onto his shoulders, pliant against the mat.

“Can you come like this, sweetheart?” Sirius said gently. “Just on my fingers?”

Remus already felt like he was coming. There was sweat on his temples and chest, and he felt Sirius’ kiss the salt away. His cock was taught against his stomach, an angry red now. Sirius stroked inside of him evenly, but in quicker time. Remus didn’t even have time to catch one breath before the next was stolen.

“I’m coming—” Remus said, but he knew he wasn’t. Not yet. But he was sure he was. He groaned and Sirius kissed his exposed throat, his back arched up, pressing down on him.

“C’mon, baby,” Sirius said. “Fuck, look at you.”

“I’m coming,” Remus said again, voice breaking, and the calloused pad of Sirius’ finger pressed against him hard, and then he really was. It tore out of him forever, spilling against Sirius’ tan skin. Sirius cradled Remus against him, saying soft things in French until Remus could open his eyes again. Sirius took Remus’ dick gently in his hand, easing a last shiver of pleasure from him. Remus smiled a little deliriously and curled closer to his warmth.

“Bath?” Sirius whispered.

“We gotta clean this,” Remus laughed. “Fuck, I feel like my brain is gone.”

“I’ll clean,” Sirius said, and tilted Remus’ head up for a kiss. “Go get the hot water going.”

That sounded fine to Remus.

Lily opened the door to Pascal’s house with Harry cradled in her arms.

“Sirius fucking Black I swear to god you triggered my labor.”

“You say that to me every time you see me.”

She stepped aside. “And will continue to do so.”

Remus stepped through the door first and took Harry from her, holding him close so that Sirius could press a kiss to one of his chubby cheeks. He wasn’t heavy, but Sirius wasn’t suppose to lift very much. Harry smiled at him and Remus watched as Sirius smiled back, murmuring in French.

“Where’s Regulus?” Lily asked.

Sirius shrugged, still making faces at Harry.

“Out with Leo,” Finn’s voice suddenly said. He was sitting on the couch with Logan tucked up against his side. “Yeah, uh-huh, Leo’s replacing us with your brother.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “That’s not true.”

Finn raised his eyebrows, as if to say he wasn’t so sure about that. Logan nudged his jaw with his nose until he pressed a light kiss to his lips. Remus smiled.

He could see the long road that was behind them and the long road ahead at the same time. It was better that way.

Most of the team was there. The living room had a huge banner that read Congratulations Logan! and beneath it a smaller one: for finally moving out of my basement!

Sirius laughed hard. “I didn’t get one of these!”

Pascal shook his head from where he was playing cards with Sergei. “I knew you would leave eventually. This one, I wasn’t so sure.”

“Hey,” Logan groaned.

Remus laughed and snapped a picture of Sirius in front of it.

“Can I have that for my instagram?” James asked.

“Baby, too much instagram, okay, I love you so much, but…” Lily winced.

“But I have a baby now,” James stood to Remus’ other side, and then Remus had two fully grown hockey players making baby talk surrounding him. “That’s what instagram’s for. Isn’t it, my little lion?”

Harry laughed delightedly at his father.

Kasey and Natalie were sitting on the couch beside Logan and Finn. Natalie had Kasey sitting between her legs on the floor, fingers running through his hair as she talked to them. Kasey seemed to be talking very seriously about something with Katie, who seemed to be wearing three princess dresses at the same time. She was sitting in his lap and he was nodding along, responding whenever she waited for him to.

Remus handed Harry back to Lily when they went into the kitchen to get drinks. Celeste was in the kitchen with Anya, and Thomas seemed to be helping, too, along with Noelle.

When Sirius said he was surprised to see her, she waved him off, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m the resident Tremblay sister representative. We were all pretty worried about Lolo for a minute there, but…” she smiled. “If only we knew. Not one boy, but two. Plus,” she looked over at Thomas, who was focusing intently on what Celeste was saying and stirring on the stove. “I have my own reasons.”

“Talkie’s a good one,” Remus said. “You lucked out there.”

“Right?” Noelle laughed, then nodded at Sirius. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Remus and Sirius said at the same time.

Noelle laughed again, and then her expression became more mild. “And…” she looked towards the living room, where they could distinctly hear Logan’s laugh. “I know none of this was easy for you two, but I’m happy you were there for my brother. Maybe not in the way you wanted to be…in the way any of us wanted…but you showed him it was okay to be who he is. I think Finn would have gotten to him eventually but I think it would have taken a lot longer. I’m glad he’s happy now. And that’s largely thanks to you two.”

“The delicious smells of success,” Thomas suddenly sang out, slightly off-key. “Breathe in the delicious smells of success, hey, Christmas, come over here and look at this goodness.”

Noelle laughed. “Oh, I’m already looking at it.” She sent Remus and Sirius a last smile. “Anyway, I said my piece.”

Remus laughed as she returned to Thomas’ side, tucking herself against him.

“That was sweet,” he said and rubbed his hand gently over Sirius’ chest, sort of out of habit by now. He could feel the bandages there.

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple. “Yeah.”

“Sirius, mon cher,” Celeste kissed Sirius’ cheek when she came over from the stove. “You are okay? Of course you are, Remus is with you. No more big empty house and take out meals, oui?”

Sirius laughed. “Way to sell me out.”

Remus snorted. “Like everyone didn’t already know.”

Celeste laughed. “C’est vrai.” She sighed, patting Sirius’ chest, near his ribs. “I am still so angry about Grayback, honestly.”

“Aren’t we all,” Pascal said, coming over. Celeste wrapped an arm around him.

“You and me both,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his wine. “But it’s over. I have to let it be over or else I’ll go insane.”

“You’ll be back out there soon,” Pascal said.

Sirius smiled. “Only thanks to Loops.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s you who does the hard part.”

Pascal laughed. “As if getting this boy to do what he’s told isn’t the hard part.”

Remus laughed. “Hm, true.”

“Celeste, the goodness looks ready to me,” Thomas called over from the stove.

Celeste laughed and leaned back towards the doorway to the living room.

“Dinner, everyone!” she called.

It only took a few moments for the kitchen to become crowded with people lining up with their plates.

“Hey,” Evgeni bee-lined between them for the wine bottle, but stopped on the way to give Remus a kiss on both cheeks. “Get Captain laid, no more grumpy.”

“Kuny,” Remus said.

Nado, behind him as always, cracked up. Sirius laughed, too.

“Merde, Kuns,” he said. “Subtle.”

“Very,” Regulus’ wry voice suddenly said from behind them as he and Leo entered the kitchen.

“Just in time!” Celeste said, handing them both plates. “Where have you boys been?”

Leo shrugged. “Just—hi, sweetheart,” he cut off as Finn wrapped his arms around his waist. “Just touring around Gryf. Got lunch.”

“Yeah, Sid’s is the best,” Regulus said.

Sirius spluttered mid way through serving himself dinner. “I told you that.”

“So?”

“So, you believe Leo and not me?”

Leo grinned. Regulus shrugged.

Remus spent most of dinner holding baby Harry and watching Sirius tickle his tummy while he laughed. James looked ready to cry at the sight. Lily took him back to be fed when they moved to sit around the living room with dessert, but Remus didn’t mind. He just leaned back into Sirius’ chest, happy with his team around him.

Logan looked red in the face from all the jokes implying why he was so eager to move in with Leo and Finn. Adele had stuck close to him all evening, sitting on his free side. Logan had his arm around her. Remus had overheard him assuring her that he’d be over to visit all the time, which he thought was unbearably sweet. Leo looked resigned and amused to the teasing, and Finn just looked thoroughly pleased, sitting between them with an arm around each.

Remus felt a kiss being placed on his neck.

“Maybe we could celebrate more than one move tonight,” Sirius said into Remus’ ear.

Remus held Sirius’ arms across his chest, turning to look at him. “What?”

Sirius just smiled and pulled Remus out of the living room and into the butler’s pantry of the kitchen. He took Remus’ hands in his warm ones. “You should move in with me.”

Remus took a slow breath in.

Sirius slid his hands up Remus’ forearms. “I want you to move in with me.”

“Baby…”

“Besides,” Sirius smiled. “Your mom will be coming to town soon with any luck,” Sirius knocked gently on the wooden cupboard behind Remus’ head with a smile. “Better not to disappoint her.”

Remus laughed, reaching up to press his hands to Sirius’ cheeks. “Better not.”

Sirius leaned down to nudge their noses together. “Live with me. You sort of already do, and I…I love it so much. I love having you near.”

Remus nodded. “Yes.” He kissed him once, and again, and again. “Yeah, I want to.”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss, and that was how Logan found them.

“Alors,” he said, hands up. “Sorry. Just got sent in for some more wine. God knows I need it.”

Remus flushed and laughed as Logan reached down for a bottle from the wine fridge.

“Carry on.”

“Oops,” Sirius snorted when they were alone again.

“I’ll have to get a car,” Remus mused as Sirius hugged him against his chest. Sirius lived just outside the city center. “No more subways and city walking from out here.”

“I’ll buy you whatever car you want.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sirius squeezed him closer. “It’s what I said. I want to. What else do you want? Tell me.”

Remus smiled and tilted his chin up to look at him. “You.”

It had been hard, saying goodbye to Sirius for the short road trip to Vegas. It was strange going without him.

“Force him to keep doing his exercises,” Remus had told Regulus firmly.

“Will do,” Regulus saluted.

“Miss you already,” Sirius had said softly when he dropped Remus off at departures.

“Just a few days,” Remus kissed his across the seats, and then kissed his new star necklace. “They’ll win.”

“Shh,” Sirius laughed gently.

Remus just smiled. “You’ll see."

Remus was in the visitor’s PT room, making sure it was well-stocked. Just in case. Moody was already in there, leaning against the table and watching the pre-game. He greeted Remus with a nod, and Remus pulled out a box of supplies to sort through while listening.

“—first time the Lions will be on the ice with Fenrir Grayback who, as we all know, received a two game suspension after a hard hit on Lions Captain Sirius Black, breaking four of his ribs. We know that the Lions organization was especially not happy about the lack of severity shown by the League. I suppose we may see what the players have to say about this tonight. I expect the Lions will push especially hard for a win in honor of their wounded Captain—not to mention that winning this game would secure them a spot in this year’s Stanley Cup play-offs. Marc-André Fleury is back with his rainbow stick tape, his second time showing support for Black. It’s nice to see. Let’s take a look at who else we’re watching tonight. First, we’ll talk about Logan Tremblay…”

“One game,” Moody grumbled. “One game.”

“One game,” Remus repeated. “Sirius really wanted to be out there tonight.”

“I don’t think Grayback knows what’s coming for him now that he isn’t,” Moody laughed gruffly. “You saw those boys when he took Sirius out. They’re fresh out of a day-off now. Rested, furious, determined.” Moody tilted his head. “I feel good things in my leg.”

Remus laughed. “Well, thank God.”

Sirius was sitting with his brother on the large, leather couch in his TV den, anxious and waiting for the second period to resume. The commercials were muted and he was waiting for Regulus to work his way up towards saying whatever it was that he was holding back. Sirius could tell there was something.

“Your house is ridiculous,” Regulus said around his Chinese takeout—not for the first time.

“I was young,” Sirius said defensively. “I thought buying a house like this was, like, required.”

“Stupide,” Regulus snorted.

“—a nasty hit on Finn O’Hara by Ryan Reaves, but he seems okay,” the commentator said, replaying the hit, and Sirius tensed. He didn’t need a replay of that. They cut back to commercials again.

“Do you think they can actually force me to go back?” Regulus said suddenly.

When Sirius looked over he was poking mildly at his noodles.

“I won’t let them do that.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re Sirius Black, not God.”

“I won’t let them do that,” Sirius said again. “Tu comprends? I will not. And Minnie won’t either.”

“Maman says—”

Sirius sat up. “You’ve been talking to her?”

“I have to sometimes,” Regulus grumbled. “Legal stuff. Minnie’s always there.”

“It doesn’t matter what she says. She is—”

“Yes, I know what she is,” Regulus snapped. “I’ve been living with her—until a few months ago, in case you forgot.” He glowered around the room. “While you were in your big fancy house…”

Sirius blinked. “Reg…”

“I’m not—mad at you. I was, but I’m not. I mean, I’m doing what you did, aren’t I? Making a better life, damn the consequences?” Regulus sighed. “There are other Snakes who want out, you know.”

Sirius sat up. “Like…witnesses? Reg, you could compile a case.”

“They’re worried they’ll never get back into the League,” Regulus said. “I’m trying, but…I don’t know, Sirius.”

Sirius’ heart ached. He looked down at his chicken and rice. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”

Regulus looked at him, gray on gray, and nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the TV. “We’re back.”

Sirius secretly liked that. Looking at the Lions play with his brother, and hearing him say we.

“O’Hara didn’t need any help getting up, even if he looked a little rattled. Now, speaking from experience, I don’t know about you, Lee, but I was waiting for O’Hara’s line mate, Logan Tremblay to have something to say about it…Tremblay did not challenge Reaves, though.”

They were lining up for puck drop, James at the center against—

Grayback.

“You know, Dean, I think that’s a testament to these young Lions, really all the Lions. They call them the cubs, you know. You can tell how much they want this. They band together, they listen, they work…I think it’s pretty rare to see such fine communication in an entire team.”

Grayback won the face off.

“Fuck,” Regulus breathed.

Sirius wished he was there, standing beside Remus, on the bench, jumping the boards—anything. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, eating take-out. Helpless.

The entire first period, and the majority of this one had been back and forth. The score was still 0-0. They were fighting. Hard. Fenrir passed it to Tuch, who knocked it over to Engelland. Engelland took a hard shot, and Leo caught it in his glove.

“Another amazing save by Knut,” Dean said. “Rookie goal tender Leo Knut has blocked 29 shots in this game so far, most of them with his glove. I love seeing that sort of technique from the younger players, you know?”

“Absolutely Dean. And it looks to me like Coach Weasley is giving the Blizzard, Kasey Winter, a nice long rest as he looks ahead to hopefully a long and successful playoff run.”

Sirius leaned forward as play started up again. Evgeni barreled against Reaves and Fenrir, evading a two-on-one with a slick pass to Nado. It was hard hockey—it looked a little like play-off hockey. Brutal, hard-hitting, and determined.

It stayed like that until half way through the third.

“Fucking hell,” Regulus said. “How does this game still have no score?”

Sirius shook his head. His heart was in his throat. He had texted Remus at the second intermission.

Boys are fired as hell, Remus had said. Good feelings. They don’t even seem tired.

Harzy okay? he had said.

Yes. Then, a minute later. Boasting that you’re checking on him XD

That reassurance was the only thing keeping Sirius sane.

“We have to break their defense,” Sirius was half watching the battle on the ice and half running through plays in his mind. The clock read twelve minutes.

Sirius could have laughed. He pressed his necklace pendant between his palms, his steepled fingers against his mouth. He wasn’t religious. He just wanted this. For all of them.

Pascal’s line was out.

“Come on Dumo,” Sirius said.

Sirius watched Pascal and Fenrir line up for the face off with tense shoulders. He waited, and waited, and then the referee was straightening again, looking at Pascal and pointing away.

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. “He’s kicking Dumo out of the circle.”

“I wonder what he said.”

Sirius silently begged Pascal to be careful.

Brady took Pascal’s place. He won the face off, and Sirius and Regulus shouted.

He passed it easily to Pascal, who dragged it along the boards.

“What’s he going so slow for?” Regulus demanded, fist hitting the couch.

Sirius only saw what was coming next because of the TV angle.

Pascal had his head down, and Fenrir was skating hard towards him on the ice.

Sirius and Regulus were on their feet in a second, shouting at the television. They couldn’t warn him.

Sirius couldn’t even breathe properly. It seemed to go on in slow motion, all of it. Pascal, his—his father, really, his protector. The man who had taken him right from under his mother’s grasp. Pascal who knew him better than anyone. Maybe even Remus.

Fenrir was obviously going in for the hit. He was probably confident that he could get away with it again. Just like he had with Remus. With Sirius. If he so much as touched Dumo—

But he underestimated Pascal Dumais just like had last time.

Pascal, puck on his stick, let Fenrir get closer, and closer, and then deked right. He spun on his right blade harshly and kicked off the boards like a goalie did on a goal post. The effect was that he went rocketing out of the way, right towards the Golden Knights’ goal, and Fenrir slammed into the boards with his own full-force.

The game didn’t pause for him. It only stopped when the goal lit up red as Pascal shot a clean line into the top left corner of the net.

Six minutes and three seconds remaining. 1-0, Lions. The Lions bench was on their feet, sticks banging against the boards as Pascal skated down for glove taps. The TV showed his familiar face, smiling. He looked into the camera for a moment, and Sirius swore Pascal was looking right at him.

He won’t get you again, the look said. Pascal tussled Remus’ hair with his glove. Or any of us.

Six minutes felt like six hours, longer and longer with each one of Leo’s saves. They showed his face during an offside whistle. He tilted his helmet up for some water. His blonde hair was darkened and drenched with sweat, but his blue eyes were fierce. He tapped his mask back down, and went back into a crouch. Sirius had never been so proud of Leo fucking Knut.

Shots were traded ferociously, the puck practically bouncing between the zones. Leo saved it with his blocker, a few bouncing off of his helmet, some dangerously close to his neck guard. He pushed off one post and dropped into a full split, the puck sliding snugly against his pad until he scooped it up like a hawk.

“Fucking hell, Leo,” Regulus mumbled.

“Right,” Sirius said. “Merde.”

Three minutes. James had four shots that very nearly went in. Logan had five close-calls. They were panting on the bench, squirting cold water down their necks, but they were keeping the score. They were protecting their lead.

Two minutes.

The Golden Knights pulled their goalie, the net was empty, and still no one scored again.

When the buzzer finally sounded, Sirius was breathing like he was on the ice, too.

The bench exploded, spilling out onto the ice. Finn threw his gloves into the air right before Logan crashed into him.

They had won the game with one goal, and three periods of sheer will-power.

Sirius hugged Regulus hard. He watched as his boys jumped on each other against the boards, knocking Leo’s helmet for his shut-out and grinning. They were clinched.

They were going to the playoffs.

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove sweater weather #coops #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #lumosinlove oc #lumosinlove ocs #o'knutzy #Thomas walker #Kasey winter #harry potter #Harry Potter fic

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faunusrights · 3 years

Text

if it’s a gentleman’s sport then why am i, ruby rose, so good at it? - snooker au

i straight up started writing this at like 11:45pm on my phone directly onto tumblr before i passed out for the night. is this garbage. yes. do i care. no. this is a part of the snooker au i’ve joked about before, which is a winter/ruby Sports Anime-Esque adventure into one of my favourite niche sports, up there with professional air hockey and rally. snooker is good! you should check it out! it’s like pool but more confusing, and you have to wear a waistcoat whilst you play it. i don’t make the rules, i merely enforce them.

///

“I never thought I’d say this,” Blake says out of nowhere, and their eyes are going sort of wide with the realisation, catching on the golden lights of the hall and glimmering a soft amber, “but I actually think I’m compelled by this horseshit.”

Weiss sighs so hard that it sounds more like a wheeze, but Ruby’s already overjoyed, turning towards Blake and Weiss with her cue held overhead, readying a cheer. “I knew it! I told you! Snooker is so good, right?”

Weiss had known coming to Patch’s single snooker hall to watch Ruby practise had been a bad idea for myriad reasons, the chief of which was that Ruby is almost certainly on a crash-course with Weiss’s older sister as she climbs the precarious ranks at an almost flippant pace, but the second was that the last thing she needs is for her datemate to find literally anything interesting in a sport about knocking balls together. Tragically, Weiss has always been somewhat adjacent to snooker given its status as the Gentleman’s Sport and its broad appeal in Atlas, and she’d hoped vaguely supporting her sister’s career whilst also strategically moving herself to Vale meant Weiss would never have to interact with it or any of its players again. Alas...

“It’s deceptively simple,” Blake muses aloud, and Yang tuts from where she’s stood at the opposite end of the snooker table, waiting for Ruby to take her turn.

“Yeah, and deceptively slow when your opponent needs to take five minutes to brag about it between shots. Chop chop, Ruby, we’re not hanging around here all day.”

Ruby pouts, making a show of rounding the table to eye up her angles. “But it’s so fun to talk about! It’s, like, ASMR the sport! And what with all the strategy and the thinking ahead, it’s like... it’s like... ball chess!”

Weiss facepalms. “Maidens have mercy.”

“I’m not wrong,” Ruby insists. “It’s exactly like chess. Ball chess.”

“It is a lot like chess,” Yang admits, and Weiss is glad she looks about as glum about it as Weiss feels. Blake, unfortunately, still looks horribly captivated. What a disaster.

“Ball chess,” Weiss repeats, and it hurts her to even say. “My sister would tie your spine in a knot for that one.”

Ruby snorts, but she finally leans over the table, eyeing up the distant black that Yang had missed. It’s a long pot — Yang had tried to get the cue ball to safety and had failed that endeavour, too, managing the distance but not the snooker — but Ruby doesn’t even hesitate before lining herself up, eyes focusing between her target and her goal before striking true, the cue ball sailing smooth down the table... before it catches the angle just so, the black knocked into the corner pocket with such ease she may as well have picked up the damn thing and dropped it in herself. The cue bounces off the foot cushion before rolling to a calculated stop for an angle on the next red, and Ruby nods appreciatively before turning back to Weiss with a grin, Yang quick to replace the black onto its spot at the bottom of the table.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna have to be nice to me. Way I see it, we’ll first meet in the hall during, like, semi-finals or whatever. Gotta have manners, Weiss.”

“She’ll obliterate you,” Weiss fires back, because she might not care for snooker but she’s Winter’s number one fan hell or high water, and that means tossing out the threats. “As soon as you miss, she’ll clear the table and wipe the floor with you.”

Yang makes a wriggly hand gesture at that. “I dunno. Your sister’s pretty fucking methodical, but I’ve yet to see anyone put Ruby in a position she can’t cheese her way out of. I don’t think you can actually, like, snooker her in a way that matters.”

“It’s trajectories,” Ruby cuts in as she lines up her next shot on the red — there’s only two remaining after this, and Yang’s score is lagging dangerously behind with Ruby’s determined focus to keep herself centred on the black. “Even then, you just have to get fancy with your curves. A snooker is just when your shot isn’t a hundred-percent chance, but I can do a lot with ninety.”

At that, she sinks the red, the cue ball puttering its way back around to give her another straight shot on the black to the opposite corner pocket. Yang’s already losing the will to live, it seems. Weiss can’t blame her. Blake, however, seems more interested than ever. “So, Winter’s methodical and you’re... what, spontaneous?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ruby answers, shaking her head. “It’s more like... since we’re calling this ball chess—“ (“No we’re not,” Weiss interjects to no avail) “—it’s more like Winter’s one of those chess players who knows all the strats, right? Like, uh, Queen’s Gambit or Fool’s Mate or whatever the shit they’re called. So long as every move goes to plan, she’s pretty much unstoppable. Me? I’m like one of those kids who gets a Rubik’s Cube and then completely ignores all the instructions. Like, I totally mess it up before I solve it anyway.”

“Which Ruby has done before,” Yang adds solemnly, and Ruby grins.

“Which I have done before! So, with Winter, as long as she doesn’t miss the pot or fuck up her safety, it’s her game. But I like the unexpected! I like being jammed into a new situation and figuring it out from there. It means I adapt a whole lot better then I fuck up and miss my shot, or the cue doesn’t end up where I planned.”

Blake nods, doing that thing where they sit up straight and cross their arms because they’re getting really quite engaged with the matter, and Weiss hasn’t yet found the inner strength to tell them it makes them look like a carbon copy of their father. “Polar opposites, then?”

“I guess,” Ruby shrugs. “Like, if you give her an inch she’ll take the mile, but if she screws up, she’s gonna have to work hard to put me somewhere I can’t crawl out of again.”

This is why Ruby’s nickname in these halls is The Escape Artist, and it’s the entire reason Weiss absolutely does not, in any capacity, want Ruby and Winter to play against each other. It’ll either be a match that’ll end in as few frames as physically possible, or a match that goes on until Weiss crumbles into fucking dust, and the odds are so 50/50 that she doesn’t like the look of either of them.

It would help if Ruby stopped being so fucking good at snooker, potting the black again with such ease that it’s like breathing at this point. Yang hisses between her teeth, and Ruby raises a brow as she stands up again.

“It’s ungentlemanly conduct to quit a game before you gotta do snookers,” Ruby points out, and Yang scowls.

“Ruby, I have done the maths, and there is not a chance in hell I’m winning now. The day I manage to get points off you missing is the day hell opens up and swallows me whole,” Yang says, though she doesn’t move to quit just yet, still holding onto her cue despite the knowledge it’s no good to her now. “Just clear the table so we can go and get lunch.”

“We could do that,” Ruby agrees. And then, she swings her head around to look at Weiss with an obnoxious grin. “Unless...”

“Ruby Rose,” Weiss snarls, “if you intentionally miss this final red just to keep this game on life support, I will end you.”

#my writing #rwby #ruby rose #snooker au #i have no idea why i was so compelled to write abt it last night but i WAS #anyway this thing literally isnt edited so dont squint too hard at the inevitable spelling errors #11:45pm murphy was a different person idk them

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sweeethinny · 4 years

Text

The Second Time of Three

some time ago I talked about the discovery of the first pregnancy - here - and now, it's Albus' turn, my little boy. For sure, I'll do Lily's tell me what you think! <3

part 1 | part 3 | ao3

‘’Good morning, luv’’ Harry kissed each cheek, the tip of the nose, the forehead and both closed eyes, smelling the familiar scent and smiling with it

‘’No’’ His son replied, turning on his side and curling up more on the blanket, sighing and closing his eyes again

‘’Come on buddy, today is an important day for mommy’’ Harry whispered, kissing his son’s tanned skin again, settling on the bed next to the boy ‘‘We’re going to watch her play’’

‘’No’’ James spoke more firmly this time, as much as a two-year-old child could be, but at least he turned to his father, lying on his chest and mostly hidden by the blanket

‘’Are you just going to say that?’’ The man asked, stroking his son’s fine dark hair, lightly sweaty, giving a kiss on the top of his head as well, amusing how the little one looked like Ginny upon waking up

‘‘No’’ And the child finally opened his brown eyes, a little darker than Ginny’s, but nothing that didn’t make people say he had ‘mother’s eyes’.

James was two years old now, walking and talking (even though his sentences were often confusing and incoherent, in a dialect that only Harry and Ginny could decipher), showing more and more Weasley temperament and finally managing to sleep alone in his room - but he always crawled into his parents' bed in the morning.

Harry had thought he had never been so happy, being a father who was completely drooling over his son, showing his picture to each workmate, talking about his prowess, and always managing to talk about James even in random topics.

''Mom will be sad, and Teddy too'' He started over, kissing the boy's forehead again ''Remember yesterday he told you he wanted to go to the game?'' The godson was another person who seemed in love with James, keeping a jealousy of an older brother every time the other children came to play with him, following behind like a watchdog, even though Harry said that everything was fine and that James was fine.

‘’Nooooooo’’ The son slowly shook his head ‘‘Mom isn’t here’’ Harry denied

''She went to the game, and so are we'' A little reluctantly like his son, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head before taking the little boy's body (which had been growing very fast, in his opinion) on his lap, taking them to the bathroom in order to start the whole ritual.

James was getting teeth, which worsened his mood 10 times, as well as the situation of his diapers.

After the two were properly cleaned, Harry went down to the kitchen, preparing a quick meal and not being able to spend all the time doing it manually as he would like, benefiting from the magic to cut the fruit and make the juice, and make the toast. Still keeping James on his hip, who was hurriedly talking about something he and Ron had done when they went for a walk yesterday.

When he, James and Teddy arrived at the Field where the game was going to take place, the audience was already all fervent, shouting for the Harpies and showing the posters with the names of the players, encouraging them and cursing the Puddlemore who would be the opponent of the time, making jokes about their catcher being lousy and an idiot who would mistake the Snitch for anything else that flew.

Ron and the other Weasleys were already in the box, the green T-shirts with the number of Gin being the majority around, looking as anxious as Harry was, talking about statistics and the potential of each player over the Harpies.

James, as a two-year-old, remained in Harry's arms the whole time, eventually going to talk to Molly or order candy from George (who had been fighting with Ron about being the best uncle).

‘’What if they don’t win?’’ Teddy asked, in the middle of Harry and Bill, dangling his legs anxiously

‘’They lose their position and Puddlemore qualifies’’ He explained ‘’But their goalkeeper is sick and the reserve is terrible’’

‘’But the Harpies do it, Ted. Genevive hasn't lost almost any snitch since last season, and Ginny's been great too'' Bill said, stroking the boy's green hair. '’Do you want to come with me, Jamie?'' The son, who was still sitting on Harry's legs, looked to his uncle as if evaluating whether he was a trustworthy person, before pressing even more against his father

''No. My dad’’ James spoke, causing a wave of laughter in everyone around,

''I'm your daddy, Jamesy, don't worry'' Harry assured him, before starting to clap and whistle, feeling as nervous as when it was her first game, hearing each player's name being announced and echoed across the field, a wave of shouting and excitement taking over the stadium, as well as a box.

When Potter was announced and Ginny went up in the air, he thought he might lose his lungs from screaming, feeling all the adrenaline rush through his body like an electrical charge;

‘’It’s mommy!’’ James shouted, climbing Harry to sit on his shoulders, clapping his hands too ‘’MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!’' He shouted, raising his fist as he saw his uncles doing, looking as angry and fearless as he could

The game began, Ginny was making incredible assists and didn't seem to be being affected much by the pressure, but Harry knew her well enough to notice that her lefthand shot was shaky, and that her reflex was a little longer than it used to be, almost making her be hit by a bludger in the ribs.

She had been nervous for the past few days, no matter how much she counted, Harry had seen the methodical way she tidied James's wardrobe, and kept the little one neat and tidy at all times - which was very difficult since he loved playing in the mud .

When Puddlemore scored the tenth goal and Harry thought he might start crying, Gwenog asked for a break

‘’What was that ?! ’’ Ron screamed ‘’Guiliandra made the worst pitch I’ve ever seen!’’

‘’She tried to get to the left’’ Teddy replied, eyes wide and legs shaking anxiously ‘‘But Edgar was right behind her, she would lose to him if she continued that way’’

''Ginny almost got it right ... who knew that idiot would be able to intercept the quaffle?'' Harry sighed, annoyed by the score and the screams of offense that Puddlemore fans were shouting at the Harpies ''What the fuck are they talking about?! It's your fucking whisk that's a bag of shit!” He shouted, barely remembering Teddy and James's presence

'‘Bag of shit! Bag of shit! Bag of shit!‘’ James repeated, crossing his arms under his chest and puffing ‘‘I want to go down’’ He asked, pulling his father’s hair until the man helped him slip and get back on his lap ‘’Mommy! Mommy!’’ And there was Ginny again, in the air, looking a little more confident, barely looking around

When the game started again, the Harpies finally showed what they came for, Guiliandra scored two goals and assisted Ginny to score another four. Puddlemore began to have to work harder and harder to not let them reach, but there was not much to do, especially when Hernet got a bludger in the head and was lost long enough for Ginny to score two more goals.

Harry no longer had a voice, his throat burned every time he screamed in celebration or irritation, James was sitting next to him, eating his apple and taking turns shouting 'mommy' and clapping his hands. Teddy could barely sit, pulling on his green hair whenever the opposing team looked too close to the goal, or if Ginny had the quaffle in hand.

It was when Gemma saw the snitch, that everyone in the box stood up in nervousness.

Harry was distracted, assessing each Harpy's move toward the golden piece, which seemed faster than he had ever seen, barely noticing when James jumped out of his chair and fled himself out of the box.

‘’And Gemma took the Snitch! Harpies win by ... Calm down, what is that? Do we have a child in the field?!’’ Tuney’s loud voice echoed through the stadium. As if he knew exactly what had happened, Harry looked at James's empty bench with only the empty pot of fruit, and then looked up at the floor, seeing his little boy walking freely across the field, in order to find Ginny coming down from the sky almost in a panic. ‘‘It looks like Potter’s son cannot wait for his mom and he needed to see her right now.’’

Harry could barely feel his heart beating, looking at his son raising his fist and shouting '’Mommy! Mommy!’’, Moving everyone who imitated him by shouting the same. James was on Ginny's lap, who now came out of the field laughing and whispering something to the little one, who didn't seem to care at all, proudly showing off his green mini T-shirt.

‘’Holy shit! How did he get there?’’ He, for the first time in a few minutes, took a deep breath ‘’He could have been trampled underfoot!’’

‘‘I think he did magic again’’ Arthur commented, laughing towards the scene, while calming a terrified Molly.

Inside the locker room, as soon as Ginny entered with her son around her waist, all the women made a noise of adoration, giving praise to the boy - who was now embarrassed - and commenting on the scene.

‘’You shouldn’t have gone there’’ She whispered to the little one, not even bothering to change clothes, anxious even to the nerves to speak to Harry soon. She just threw her stuff in the bag, feeling shaky ‘’I almost fell off up there’’

''I missed you'' James spoke softly, laying his head on her shoulder and looking at her with big brown eyes ''Dad shouted'' He spoke after the two left the locker room, with Ginny receiving several hugs and congratulations from her team, who almost made her cry;

‘’I want you next season, Potter’’ Gwenog smiled at her, after all the hugs and goodbyes

‘‘Am I not out yet?’’ Ginny asked, a little uncertainly, feeling James look closely at the two women

‘’Not as long as you want to play…’’

‘’Your dad screamed, huh?’’ She looked at her husband standing in the back, talking to Teddy, holding James’s orange purse, and looking very handsome.

‘‘Yep’’ The son smacked his ‘P’ lips, making her laugh weakly and get closer to her little family, it didn’t take long to be hugged tightly and receive kisses and congratulations

''You played very well'' Harry smiled, kissing her forehead ''I'm sure you will go to this year's Cup'' Ginny took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in her chest that she felt during all those hours that passed after there was uncovered

‘’No .. maybe another year’’ Her husband frowned

‘’But Gin-Gin, you won! And played very well! Of course they’re going to rate you’’ Teddy raged on the other side of her waist, looking indignant at her

‘’I .. I think this was my last game for a while .. But it was good, not every baby plays a decisive game in a professional league’’ She said, feeling her heart almost break her chest

‘’Gin, I know James came on the field but… Oh, MERLIM!’’ Harry shouted, his green eyes getting huge as he threw himself at her, making their son grumble about the squeeze ‘’When did you know?’’

‘’Two hours before entering the game. I took the test last week and it was negative, but then, today Gwenog told me to do it again, and there it was ... They couldn't replace me but ... it was my last game of the season'' She didn't want to cry, but her eyes were already pricking ''Grace was assigned to take all the bludgers away from me, just for safety''

‘’Gin-Gin, did you get hurt?’’ Teddy asked, pulling on her shirt

‘’Did Mom hurt? Are you hurt mommy?’’ James pulled her face so she looked at him, looking even more worried.

‘’I’m fine my loves, just pregnant .. You’re going to get a new brother’’ Teddy smiled, clapping and hugging her, all loving the way he always was. James just made a face, denying and hiding his head again in her neck

‘‘I don’t want a brother’’ Harry and she laughed, slightly denying as they faced each other

‘’We’re going to need to get the boxes out of that room’’ She nodded, seeing that it was now he who had tears in his eyes ‘‘We’re going to be parents’’

‘’Yes .. again’’.

#hinny #harry x ginny #harry!dad #ginny!mom #Harry Potter #ginny potter #Harry and Ginny #hinny fluff #hinny headcanon #hp next gen #harry potter next generation #next gen harry potter #James Sirius Potter #Albus Severus Potter #teddy lupin

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pipedream-darling · 3 years

Text

Live a Little

My piece for Day 2 of TGGTVAV Week! @tggtvav-week

Dreams | Historical AU | Side Character (Read on AO3)

This party is giving me a tremendous sense of deja vu. It’s the after-party for this year’s Annual Sportspeople of the Year Awards. Monty and I were both nominated for Best Footballer and for Best Media Personality, whatever that even means. Neither of us won either. I don’t care, not really (The player that did win Best Footballer scored two-thirds as many goals as Monty this season… but again. I don’t care.)

The same old formal wear, the same faces. I feel like I’m always at this bloody party. I’m standing in a corner with Monty, who is frowning down into his alcohol-free cocktail. I give him a consolatory nudge.

“Next year.”

“Hmm?” He looks up at me, then laughs. “Oh god. I don’t care. I’m just wondering who on Earth came up with the idea of a virgin mojito.”

“You could always drink tap water, you know.”

“Thrilling.”

I roll my eyes and he sidles up to me, pressing himself against my chest so that he has to stretch his neck to look up at me.

“Let’s go hooooome.”

“Why do you even bother coming to these events if you get bored after an hour?”

“Because I get to see you all dressed up, mostly.” I laugh and he pouts. “Next time, we stay home, and you put on a tuxedo anyway.”

“That would be a waste. You’d take it off within minutes.”

“That’s the fun of it!”

I smirk and lean down to kiss his forehead. “We won’t stay late. It’s good for me to do the rounds at these things. For the Foundation.”

“I suppose,” he says with a sigh, but he doesn’t move away, just buries his face in my chest.

I smile and stroke his hair, then I look up as someone walks over— my heart sinks. Richard Peele. The only man on Earth who doesn’t manage to look attractive in a tux. I nudge Monty slightly and he stands up straight.

“Incoming,” I mumble as Richard approaches. Monty turns to see him, then swears under his breath.

“Boys!” Richard says, his grin as cocky as ever. His aftershave is overpowering. Not for the first time, I wonder how Monty ever hooked up with him without gagging.

“Richard,” Monty greets him, more politely than he deserves.

“Congratulations on your awards!” He fake gasps, clutching his hands to his chest. “Oh wait! You didn’t get any.”

“Peele…” I raise an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t even nominated.”

He shrugs. He looks drunk. “Wouldn’t have wanted a nomination. Whole thing is shit anyway.”

“Well, we’re agreed there.”

“So, what are you two doing hiding away in a corner? Up to no good? What’s the current favourite, Montague? Coke? Speed? I remember your speed phase fondly. You used to be able to go for—“

“Oh, piss off Richard,” Monty cuts in, trying to look unbothered. But I know he isn’t. “Don’t you have any actual friends to talk to?”

I put my arm around Monty’s waist, protectively, and he leans into me. Richard rolls his eyes.

“Got plenty of friends, thanks. Just wanted to check in on everyone’s favourite couple.”

“Well, now you have.” I say, giving him a pointed look. “See you around.”

He curls his lip at me, stepping closer. He’s taller than Monty, but not taller than me. I have a couple of inches on him, but he’s clearly too wasted to be intimidated by this fact.

“You don’t scare me, Newton. We’re not on the pitch now. You can’t accidentally elbow me in the face this time.”

No, but I can definitely punch you on purpose, I think to myself.

I don’t say anything. He huffs, then turns to Monty. “If you ever get bored of this fairy,” he points to me. “And fancy a go with a real man again, you’ve still got my number.”

Monty blinks at him. “I’ll bear that in mind. Cheers.”

Richard gives him a leery look up and down, before giving me one last glare, then stalking away. I can feel Monty’s shoulders tense up where he’s leaning against me, and I’m not much better myself, so I take a deep breath and try to relax.

“Christ. He’s like a cartoon villain.”

“Was he always that ugly?” Monty looks up at me. “I swear he didn’t used to be that ugly. I categorically do not sleep with ugly people.”

“Maybe your standards just got higher after you met me.” He laughs slightly. But it sounds stilted. I squeeze his waist. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I’m not.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Okay! I am. Slightly.” He sips his drink, pulling a face. “It’s hard not to be bothered when one of your most shameful regrets can walk and talk and embarrass you at parties.”

“He’s just someone you hooked up with. It’s not that big of a deal.”

He scoffs. “You look like you want to scream every time his name is mentioned.”

“Well… he’s…”

“Rude? Obnoxious? Untalented?”

“He makes you feel bad about yourself. I don’t like it.”

Monty pauses at that, reaching out and squeezing my hand.

“You’re the one he called a fairy.”

“Fairy and proud,” I say with a shrug. Monty laughs.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.” I tug at his hand, pulling him away. “Let’s find you something less disgusting to drink”.

We’re standing at the bar, Monty trying to get the perfect selfie while the bartender makes our drinks. He leans into me, trying to get my face into the photo and I smirk.

“Aren’t people bored of seeing me on your Instagram?”

“Why would anyone ever get bored of seeing this face?” He gently bites my cheek, taking another few photos, then finally brings the phone down to review the results. “God, we’re hot.”

I laugh. “Is that what you’re captioning it?”

He starts typing. “Well, now I am.”

I grin and nudge him, then frown when I spot something on the bar a small distance away. A set of keys. I reach over and grab them.

“Someone left their keys.”

“Mmm,” he replies, still busy making his post. “Hand them in.”

I shrug, about to get the bartender’s attention, when Monty glances up then gasps, grabbing my arm.

“Wait.” He snatches the keys from me. “Look!”

He holds them up in front of my face and I frown. “What?”

He huffs, then points at the car key. It has a very tacky leather tag hanging off it, with a gaudy metal Lamborghini logo.

“These are Peele’s car keys!”

I laugh. “God, he really is drunk. We should probably keep hold of them so he doesn’t try to drive home”

Monty winces slightly, and I immediately feel bad, but then he shakes it off. “Don’t you see what an opportunity this is, Perce?”

I give him a look. “Opportunity?”

“Yes! We have that prick’s car keys!” He looks at them, sighing happily. “His beloved Lamborghini.”

I laugh. “And?”

“And! We could play all sorts of tricks on him. We could break into it. Leave his lights on. Drain his battery.”

“You are truly wild.”

He huffs. “Well, what’s your suggestion?”

“My suggestion was handing them in!”

He rolls his eyes, dumping them on the bar again and returning his attention to his phone. I pick up the keys, turning them over in my hands, and I think back to ten minutes ago, when Richard dragged his eyes over Monty’s body. My Monty’s body. Suddenly the need to piss him off is overwhelming.

Why do I always have to be the sensible one?

“However…” Monty looks up at me, raising an eyebrow. “I have always wanted to drive a Lamborghini.”

* * * *

We manage to sneak out without drawing too much attention (and without spotting Richard), taking the lift to the car park beneath the building.

His car isn’t hard to spot. Bright yellow amongst the sea of silver and white Mercedes and BMWs. We walk over to it and Monty looks unimpressed, leaning down to scrub at a little scuff with his sleeve.

“This car is a midlife crisis.”

I laugh. “He’s 26.”

“Well, it’s definitely compensating for—“

“I don’t want to know,” I cut in, leaning down to look in the windows. “I think it’s gorgeous.”

“Really?” He folds his arms, tilting his head at the car. “It’s no Porsche.”

“I swear you love that car more than you love me.”

“Absolutely not.” He walks over and leans down to where I’m crouching to kiss me on the cheek. “But it’s a close second.”

I smile, then hold up the keys. “So? Shall we?”

He frowns. “You were serious?”

“Why not?”

“Well, for a start… you can’t drive, Perce.”

I scoff, pressing the key unlocking the doors. “I’ve had some lessons. And I haven’t had a seizure in a year. Anyway, it’s an automatic. How hard can it be?”

I start to climb into the driver’s seat and Monty grabs my arm. “Perce!”

“Come on!” I grin at him. “Live a little.”

He furrows his brow, but then lets me go, and I slide into the seat, pulling the door shut behind me. A couple of moments later, Monty opens the passenger door and climbs in, mumbling to himself.

“I’ve lived plenty. This is just stupid.”

I look around the car, taking it in. Monty’s car is gorgeous, but this is next level. Every bell and whistle included. It’s a shame it smells like Richard’s pungent aftershave.

I put the key in the ignition and Monty flinches.

“Are you sure, baby?”

I start the engine, and then I grin at him. It must be contagious, because after a pause, he grins right back at me.

“Go on then,” he says, with a resigned shrug. “Show me what you can do.”

I surprise myself. Driving is… surprisingly easy? And this thing can go fast. The roads are thankfully quiet, and I’m pretty sure I’m speeding, but the adrenaline rush is impossible to deny.

Monty is watching me, laughing at the look on my face as I narrowly avoid hitting another kerb. Okay, maybe driving is sort of hard.

“Jesus, Perce!”

“Oops.”

“I hope you’re enjoying your little crime spree. It might be the last thing we ever do.”

I laugh. “Oh, he’s wankered. We’ll take it back in a minute and he won’t even know it was gone.”

“True. As long as you don’t—“ He gasps as I very barely avoid scraping someone’s wing mirror at the side of the road. “Damage it!”

“I won’t!”

“You know what, I resent that you’ve turned me into the reasonable one tonight, but I think I should probably drive us back. Just in case.”

I pout at him. “Five more minutes? Oh, wait! I have an idea.”

I take a left, so sharply that Monty has to grab onto the car door to keep his balance. He shoots me an annoyed look, but I don’t acknowledge it. I’m trying desperately to remember a certain spot I know of around here, and I think I’m vaguely headed in the right direction.

Monty stops trying to object. I think he’s enjoying this really— watching me cut loose a bit. I glance at him and he bites his lip, giving me that look that usually ends with at least one of our trousers around our ankles. I look back out of the windscreen and grin to myself when I see what I was looking for.

I pull up in a parking spot, braking far too aggressively, and we both jolt forward.

Monty takes a long, deep, relieved breath as I put on the handbrake.

“See? No one died.”

“I’m definitely driving us back.”

I shrug, then motion out of the window. “Do you recognise this?”

“It’s a hill, Perce.”

I frown. “It’s Primrose Hill. Remember? We had a picnic here.”

He pauses, then smiles. “This is where you asked me to move in with you.”

“Yep!”

He looks at me. “Baby, you really are a wonder. Combining a bit of grand theft auto with a romantic trip down memory lane.”

I laugh. “The duality of Newton.”

“This is very sweet.” He reaches out and squeezes my knee, giving me a fond look. “Thank you.”

“I just… I don’t like it when people drag up your past. Like it’s all you are. You’re… this. You’re picnics, and house keys, and romance. You’re all of it.”

He swallows, looking surprised. “Baby…”

“Don’t let anyone ever convince you otherwise, okay? Especially not Richard sodding Peele.”

He nods, and his eyes look a little wet, then he reaches for my hand, holding it up to his lips and kissing my fingers. “Okay.”

We share a smile, then Monty turns away. I stare at him. He takes a while to notice, too busy gazing out of the window. When he finally turns back to me, he starts slightly.

“What?”

“Did you and him ever…?”

He frowns. “I thought we’d already established this, darling.”

“No. I know.” I nod towards the backseat. “In here?”

He turns a little red, then looks away again, which is answer enough.

“Great. Nice.”

Monty huffs, looking at me with a sheepish look on his face. “Only a blowjob or two...”

I roll my eyes, tapping my hands on the steering wheel and staring out at the view in front of us for a few seconds. Then I shrug.

“Then we’ll just have to do more than that. Won’t we?”

He pauses, then frowns. “Eh?”

I lean over the centre console and take his face in my hands, kissing him. After a brief pause, he sighs against my lips and kisses me back harder.

“You really—“ he speaks between kisses, breathless. “Want to?” He stops to nip at my jaw. “Right here?”

I groan. “More than anything.”

“Revenge shag?”

“Revenge shag,” I confirm, starting to pull his shirt out of where it’s tucked into his trousers.

“There’s…” He sighs as I start to kiss his neck. “People could see.”

I bite down slightly and he gasps. “The windows are blacked out.”

“There’s not much room.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

He gasps as I find the lever on his chair, pulling it until he’s practically horizontal, and then I clumsily clamber over onto his lap, my legs either side of his.

He laughs in surprise, putting his hands on my thighs. “What the hell has gotten into you tonight?”

“Nothing.” I grin. “Yet.”

After, I lie on Monty’s chest and I can feel the dopey smile on my face. He’s gently twisting one of my curls around his fingers as we catch our breath.

“That was fantastic,” I say with a sigh. It’s stating the obvious. It’s always bloody fantastic.

He kisses the top of my head. “Obviously.”

I look up at him. “Better than Peele?”

“Peele who?”

I laugh. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Never heard of him.”

“Damn right.”

I lean up to kiss him and he gently strokes my cheek, then we both jump when we hear a buzzing sound. Monty grimaces, fumbling around on the seat around us trying to find his phone.

“Who calls people?” He finds it and holds it up. “Ooooofe.”

He grimaces and turns the screen to me. Peele is calling. There’s an eye-roll emoji next to his contact name.

I grimace back at him. “Shit. Why would he be calling you?”

“Perhaps because he pissed us off and then his car disappeared?”

“Should you answer it? Maybe you should answer it.”

He scoffs. “And say what? Oh, your car? Yes, we stole it and just did something filthy on the expensive leather.”

“Well, no. You can lie. I’m pretty sure you’re capable of lying.”

“Ouch! True. But ouch.” He takes a deep breath, then answers. “Richard!”

I hear muffled, angry talking. Monty bites on his lip to stop from laughing, before trying to get a word in between the ranting.

“Richard, I— What do you mean? Which car?” The muffled talking gets louder and Monty grins. “Oh, that car! Well, how did you manage to lose that? Seems pretty irresponsible.”

“Very careless,” I whisper in agreement.

Monty puts a hand over my mouth, still smiling, then suddenly his face falls. “Tracking device?”

My eyes widen. Shit. Shit shit. Of course, there’s a tracking device. This car is top-of-the-range ridiculous.

“Well, that’s good then.” Monty continues, somehow managing to sound calm and collected. “You’ll find it easily. Good luck!” He hangs up. “We need to get out of here. Immediately. He’s waiting for a cab and he knows where the car is”

I scramble off of him as quickly as I can, climbing back into the driver’s seat and looking for my clothes. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Monty does the same, laughing. I shoot him a look.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. Panicking. Naked.”

I find this shirt and throw it at his face. “Twat.”

I find my boxers and pull them on, and Monty picks his own up from where they were discarded in the well of the passenger seat. I suddenly have a thought, and reach out to grab his arm before he can pull them on, too.

“Wait.”

I snatch them from him and he gives me an extremely confused look. I lean over into the back seat and place them on the leather, stretching them out so that they’re nice and displayed.

“A departing gift for our gracious host.”

Monty cackles, throwing his head back. “You’ve completely lost your mind.”

I grin at him. “Is it a problem?”

He pulls me in for a wet, sloppy kiss. “Absolutely not. Now come on.” He pushes me away again and starts pulling on his suit trousers. “We have to clear out of here before—”

There’s a sudden, loud sound, like fabric ripping. We both freeze. I look down and see that the button of Monty’s trousers has caught on the corner of the passenger seat. The leather has torn dramatically, showing the foam underneath. Turns out even the most expensive, luxury cars are no match for Monty’s clumsy streak.

I look up at him. “Before what, love?”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Well, this has turned into a very expensive night out.”

“We can afford it.” He opens his eyes, then narrows them at me. “I’m aware that’s not the point.”

“This was your idea, you know. You decided to have a naughty streak, and now we have to buy— No. Actually. You have to buy Richard bloody Peele a new car.”

I scoff. “It’s just a little rip. It’s not like we’ve trashed it.”

And then… I picture it; Richard, hopping in an uber to where his little tracking device is pointing him, furious, that spiteful face all red and flushed. He gets here and Monty and I are long gone, his beloved Lamborghini is… trashed. The windows are smashed. The seats are ripped to shreds. And Monty’s Tom Ford pants are on the backseat.

I smile.

“We should trash it.”

Monty laughs, pulling on his shirt. “I’m cutting you off. No more carnage. We’re going to go home, you’re going to have one of your sad little sleepy teas, then we’re going to bed.”

“Montttyy,” I whine, and he gives me an incredulous look. “It’ll be funnnn!”

“Of course it would be fun! It would also land us in prison.”

“No one would know it was us!”

He points to the underwear on the back seat. “Have you never seen CSI?”

“Since when were you such a spoilsport?”

He stares at me, one eyebrow raised in challenge, then slowly reaches down and tugs at the rip in the seat, making it even wider.

“Oops.”

I grin, turning around in my seat and looking for something to break. I look back forward, spotting the rear view mirror, then I lean up and grab it, yanking at it hard until it snaps off in my hand.

Monty gapes at me.

“Holy shit.”

I grin at him. “Shall we see what else we can break in the next five minutes?”

The answer is quite a lot, apparently. The seats are torn to shreds. The dashboard is cracked. Monty has scraped a key all along the exterior. And I’m currently working on burning holes in the leather seats with the dashboard lighter, still wearing nothing but my underwear.

Suddenly, I hear a very high pitched shriek. I abandon the lighter and scramble out of the car to check on Monty, who was halfway through trying to pull off one of Richard’s wiper blades. He’s now ducked down, hiding behind the bonnet of the car. I quickly join him.

“What?”

“He’s here! I just saw an uber.”

“Shit. How did he get here so quickly? Maybe we were shagging longer than we thought?”

He hisses at me. “Not really relevant right now, Perce. More worried about getting out of here without him seeing us.”

I grimace. “I left my clothes in the car.”

“Then I guess you’re streaking. Come on.”

He quickly glances over the hood of the car, then once he decides the coast is clear, he grabs my hand and pulls me up.

And then we immediately collide with Richard Peele.

He seems to have snuck up from the other direction and well… he doesn’t look terribly happy.

“What—“ He’s so angry, he can barely get his words out. “In the name of fu—“

“Richard!”

God bless Monty for attempting to be charming, even at a time like this.

“Awful news! Someone was trying to damage your car. Me and Percy scared them off.”

“How stupid do you think I am, Montague?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

Richard hisses through his teeth, stepping closer to Monty, and I decide it’s time to intervene, standing in front of him protectively. .

“Don’t even think about it.”

He curls his lip, looking me up and down. “Why are you naked?” He glances back at the car, then at me again, his face turning white. “Did you two...“

I smirk. “Twice.”

(It’s a lie. But he doesn’t need to know that.)

He looks like he wants to throw up. Then he pulls back his fist— but he’s still tipsy, and his reflexes are slow. So, I take a step back to dodge his punch, before reeling my own fist back to throw one of my own.

It connects with his nose. Hard. Kickboxing is one of my favourite workouts and I’m twice as strong as he is. The result being that his nose starts to bleed instantly and he staggers backwards. Monty yelps behind me.

“Shit!”

He tries to pull at my arm but I ignore him.

“Not bad for a fairy, right Peele?”

“Perce!”

“Monty, it’s fine.”

“No! Percy! The car!”

He pulls my arm even harder and I finally turn around. The car. The fucking car is on fire.

“Jesus! What happened?”

“Not sure, but shall we try and figure it out somewhere further away from the flaming car?”

I let him drag me away and we take off at a sprint. Richard isn’t far behind us, trying to keep up.

“The lighter,” I shout to Monty. “I dropped the lighter on the seat!”

The amount of serious crimes I’ve committed today is becoming difficult to keep track of. Car theft. Reckless driving. Public Indecency. Assault. And now apparently a bit of semi-accidental arson. But are they really crimes if the only victim is Richard Peele?

“Save it for court!” Monty replies.

When I think we’re a safe distance away, I stop, pulling Monty to me. We’re both gasping, out of breath. I hear Richard coughing nearby. He must have inhaled some smoke.

I ignore him, pushing Monty’s hair out of his eyes, then cupping his face in my hands.

“Are you okay?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

I grin. “I’m amazing.”

He smiles back, exasperated. “You’re a lunatic is what you are.”

“I love you.”

He shakes his head, then puts his hand behind my neck, pulling me down into a kiss. I lean into it, my hands sliding to his waist and dipping him slightly, making him laugh against my lips.

And then… there’s a loud bang.

I don’t get the chance to glance over at the car before we’re being thrown into the air by the force of the explosion.

* * * *

I wake up with a flinch so huge that the bed shakes. I hear Monty groan next to me.

“Baby, what…?”

Jesus Christ, that was vivid. I can still smell the smoke.

Monty rolls over to face me with a huff. “Perce?”

“Sorry.” I rub my face. “Sorry, I was…”

“Dream?” he asks, mid-yawn.

I pause, then smirk. “Dream.”

He stares at me for a second, then snorts. “Oh god, not the car one again.”

“The car one.” I shuffle over to him, pulling him closer so that our noses are touching. “It was a good one. This time I punched him.”

He gives a sleepy laugh. “This dream almost makes me feel sorry for the man…”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Monty…”

“I mean. Your subconscious is regularly ruining his life! Just because he used to give your boyfriend the occasional hand job after a game…”

“Perhaps the next dream will be the one where I finally murder him.”

He laughs, leaning in to kiss me and placing his hands on my chest. “Your heart is still pounding.”

I blush. “It was fun. There was an explosion.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’re never watching Die Hard before bed again.”

I laugh, rolling on top of him and making him yelp.

#tggtvav #tggtvav week 2021 #the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue #tggtvav fic #my fic #fic rec #fic writing #this is so silly #enjoy

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